


Choose Your Own Renventure

by Aikori_Ichijouji, AkisMusicBox, chitesnoo, claraowl, ncisduckie



Category: Skip Beat!
Genre: A fic that shoves you face first in a snowbank and runs you thru with a smord - aikori, Alternate Universe - Medieval, BIRB COLLAB, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Bromance Ren/Kijima/Hikaru, But how will we end?, But if they die, Choose Your Own Adventure, Christmas, F/M, Kyoko x Hikaru is how we start, M/M, People do die--its a CYOA., Ren has friends what is this, Ren in Leather Pants, Swords & Sorcery, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, You pick what happens next, just go back and do another path, there was only one cloak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 94
Words: 47,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aikori_Ichijouji/pseuds/Aikori_Ichijouji, https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkisMusicBox/pseuds/AkisMusicBox, https://archiveofourown.org/users/chitesnoo/pseuds/chitesnoo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/claraowl/pseuds/claraowl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncisduckie/pseuds/ncisduckie
Summary: Ren, a mercenary-for-hire, is contracted by the bard Hikaru and his friend Kijima to escort them to Hikaru's betrothed, Kyoko Mogami--a woman whom Ren knows from his own past. Their journey leads them through a bewitched forest where vampires, witches, and thieves lie in wait. Many paths lead them to the ends of this story. Which they take—and whom they love—is up to you.Choose wisely, Reader. This adventure is yours to lead.
Relationships: Anything is possible - Relationship, Except Sho x Kyoko, Ishibashi Hikaru/Mogami Kyoko, Ishibashi Hikaru/Tsuruga Ren, Kijima Hidehito & Tsuruga Ren, Mogami Kyoko/Tsuruga Ren
Comments: 188
Kudos: 20
Collections: Interactive Fiction/Actual ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’, Skip Beat Winter Challenge 2020!





	1. A Bard, A Bawd, and a Brawler Walk Into a Forest

**Author's Note:**

> This fic began as a one-shot challenge based on Christmas word prompt from ncisduckie: blizzard, frostbite, and pine cone. Her words were so dark and devious that I spun a tale of midnights and fear—but my love for RenKyo is so staunch that fluff crept through despite myself. 
> 
> Some fluff. And some real good smooches.
> 
> It was too much fun to keep to myself, so I ensnared the birb squad to finish up some secret strands: Akismusicbox, AikoriIchijouji, claraowl, ncisduckie, and chitesnoo all received a setting and set-up and created endings! Now off with ye, Reader! Find the buried treasure, including an original pieces of artwork by SkipBeat! doujinshi artist chitesnoo herself! 
> 
> Hope you have as much fun reading as I did writing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic began as a one-shot challenge based on Christmas word prompt from ncisduckie: blizzard, frostbite, and pine cone. Her words were so dark and devious that I spun a tale of midnights and fear—but my love for RenKyo is so staunch that fluff crept through despite myself.  
> Some fluff. And some real good smooches.  
> It was too much fun to keep to myself, so I ensnared the birb squad to finish up some secret strands: Akismusicbox, AikoriIchijouji, claraowl, ncisduckie, and chitesnoo all received a setting and set-up and created endings! Now off with ye, Reader! Find the buried treasure, including an original pieces of artwork by SkipBeat! doujinshi artist chitesnoo herself!  
> Hope you have as much fun reading as I did writing!

The woods were still, all sounds of life gagged by the heavy falling snow. Three hunched black forms interrupted the white, crouching low beside a fire hissing lazily at them as it struggled to burn wet wood. 

“My fingers will be useless tonight,” said Hikaru. He was the smallest of the three lumps, less than half the size of his companions, a lump wrapped protectively around a gilded case resting on his knees. “This fire isn’t worth staying for. We should keep moving, trying and find an inn.”

One of his companions began to hum, a bawdy smile slipping out from under his deep hood. “An inn does offer many enjoyable ways to warm up. What say you, Ren?”

The third blew snow off a pinecone and tossed it in the fire before replying. “No whore will have you tonight, Kijima. We camp here. Better a weak fire than losing a foot to frostbite from this blizzard.” 

Kijima sighed wistfully, curled fingers held mere inches away from the flames. “Is that an invitation into your sleeping bag, dear one? Or should I chase the lusty bard?” 

Hikaru squeaked, shifting closer to Ren. “My lute is the only lover allowed in my bed!” 

“At least until we find your lady,” Kijima countered. “Fair Kyoko of the Golden Eyes.” He sang, throwing his hands wide for a moment before the cold forced them back to the fire. 

Hikaru blushed mightily but joined in, his fingers tapping wantingly on the case of his lute. “Maiden fair and lovely, with eyes of molten gold-- if only you would have me, my soul would ne’er grow cold.”

Ren stood. Snow avalanched off his cloak. He pulled it tighter, covering the leather body armor he wore incessantly. Only a forged iron necklace broke the hard black lines. An open circle with a pendant inside and a fire-emblem charm, it rested in the center of his chest. Hikaru had asked many times about the sorcery wrapped into it, but Ren refused to offer more than a distant smile. It glowed now, a green so deep it seemed almost black. 

“We should hunt before it gets dark. There is nothing but hardtack and salt beef left in our stores.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If the boys should listen to Hikaru and stay near the fire, singing, turn to [Chapter 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68622645). If they should follow Kijima and head down the road to an inn, turn to [Chapter 3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68622663). If they should hunt with Ren, turn to [Chapter 4.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68622675)
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

Kijima scooped up a handful of snow, shaping it carefully with hands already tipped blue at the ends. Shivers made his wrist wobble, slipping at the top of his toss’s arc. The snowball bursted against Ren’s chest. “Sing with us,” Kijima said. “Sing, and make merry, for tomorrow we die--”

“We die.” Hikaru added a perfect falsetto above Kijima’s words.

“Alone,” Kijima continued on, slipping into his deep baritone. “And unbedded.” He started to shape another snowball. “For Ren’s a prude and a coward, for Ren’s a prude and a coward--” 

Ren’s sword flashed out and sliced Kijima’s snowball out of the air. It fell to the ground, icy halves scattered around Ren’s boots. Ren said nothing, the rasp of his sword slipping back into its scabbard the only reply he gave before stalking off into the snow-covered trees.

Hikaru scooted to the end of his log, close enough to Kijima to feel the lackluster body heat from the other man. “P-p-perhaps a hunt would help warm us,” he said, clutching the lute case to his chest. 

“And leave this delightful fire?” Kijima yawned. He dug around the base of the fallen pine they sat upon and threw another pinecone at the flames. It sizzled, snow melting against the meager coals. “We have a responsibility to tend to it for when our chaste leader returns.” 

Hikaru sank against Kijima’s shoulder. He unhooked the clasps holding his lute’s case closed, fingers clumsy with cold. “A song, then.”

He played softly and slowly, each note closer to the music of a falling snowflake than a bawdy tavern chorus. Kijima’s eyes drifted shut; he lay his head on his knees. Hikaru shifted with him. The fire faltered, sleeping with the wanders. 

Snow covered their shoulders, claiming their dark shapes for the forest. When Ren returns, he will find no music and no life waiting for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End! Perhaps go back and make another choice, ye lazy scallywag! 😉
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

“Why waste arrows when we can purchase meat with the coin you earned at that archery contest in Clairmont?” Kijima said. He kicked snow over the struggling remains of their fire as he stood. He crossed his arms, meeting Ren’s glare over Hikaru’s still-hunched form. 

“The fire,” Hikaru moaned. He looked up at Ren through sandy-colored bangs. Tears were already gathering at the corners of his eyes. “I worked so hard on finding that kindling.” 

Ren’s scowl deepened. “We have no idea how far the next inn is.” He ripped at a branch hanging from a pine tree near his forehead. Snow cascaded down. “It’s madness.” 

“Ah.” Kijima sighed. “But a rare form of madness rewarded with hot meat of many kinds.” 

Ren’s lips drew as straight as his sword blade. He pointed one finger at Kijima’s chest. “I will not carry you when you falter.” 

“And I would rather die than have your weedy arms wrapped around me.” 

Hikaru sprang up between them, just tall enough to interrupt the conversation without blocking their angry glares at one another. “If we go, let us be off. The fire…” He gestured behind him numbly, not bothering to finish his sentence. Kijima’s cape swirled up a fresh dusting of snow on Hikaru’s boots as he turned. 

Ren placed one hand on Hikaru’s shoulder, pulling his eyes from Kijima only when the other man disappeared through a thicket lining the edges of the road. “You must be prepared,” he said, his voice soft. “We cannot stop once we have moved on from here.” 

Hikaru pushed Ren’s hand off his shoulder, his face souring. “As if I am not also a man.” He sucked air between his teeth then slung his lute case over his shoulder and ran off, skipping to cover the distance between Kijima’s footprints. Ren followed more slowly, covering their fire with another dusting of snow from the pine. He scanned the forest warily, eyes lingering on the shadows deepening beneath the farthest ring of trees. He retied the leather cord holding back his jet black hair and turned, crushing his companion’s footsteps beneath his own. 

Night began to fall before they had walked long enough to have aches in their calves, and with it fell the temperatures. Hikaru began to sing. His voice sounded hollow, forced between hands cupped to his lips for warmth. He sang the same lines over and over, a military song Ren had learned in his service as General Takarada’s Lieutenant. Their steps fell into its steady cadence. 

Kijima’s cape was wrapped tightly around him, clutched inside his fists so that the fabric barely moved as he walked. He stared at the ground, watching only the path eaten away beneath their feet and yet still tripped over more sticks and divots than he cleared. Ren beat his hands against his chest in time with Hikaru’s words, his head up and his eyes watching the darkness beside the road. 

The wind picked up, ripping through the trees and blasting their march with winter’s breath. Hikaru’s song faltered. He slowed, then stopped, sinking to his knees. Snow and ice whirled around him. 

Ren tugged at his collar. “Up,” he said. 

Hikaru’s lute slid from his hands into the snow. He stared at it. His hands lay open on his legs. Even in the rising moonlight Ren could see the purple beginning to paint the edges of his fingers. He cursed, kneeling by his friend. 

“I am ready to stop,” Hikaru whispered, smiling down at his hands. 

The wind whipped the pines beside the road into a frenzy. Ren tore his eyes from Hikaru, looking for the source of a steadier rustling heard beneath the storm. Kijima was still singing, moving forward, his head down. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another crossroads, Reader. If Ren will pick up Hikaru and follow Kijima, turn to [Chapter 5](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68674242). If Ren will try to get Hikaru to walk on his own, turn to [Chapter 6](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68674290). If Ren heads into the forest to investigate the mysterious sound, turn to [Chapter 7](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68674323).
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	4. A Bard, A Bawd, and a Brawler Walk Into a Forest

“Fine,” Kijima said. He dug in the snow around the base of the pine log he and Hikaru sat on and found a pinecone to throw in the meager fire. “Bellies first. Though if you expect me to lay in the snow and ambush some creature--”

“You will stalk,” Ren said curtly. “Drive them toward me.” He jerked his chin to the East, then headed off in the opposite direction. 

“Excellent,” Hikaru said, “we are rather the noisy ones anyways.” 

Kijima grunted a laugh, pulling his cape tightly around him and waiting for Hikaru to strap on his lute before they walked off together. The forest grew denser around them, more difficult to navigate than the strip near the road’s edge where they had made camp. After a mile or so they turned, clapping their hands together and striding West toward the dying sun. 

“Hi ho, hi ho,” Hikaru sang with each clap. “It’s off to hunt we go.” 

A stag leapt out of the forest before them, breaking the endless white with its tawny hide. It sprang lightly, almost dancing in the air. Hikaru whooped, running beside Kijima as quickly as they could, their steps mimicking the stag’s as they jumped over fallen logs and around the dark slashes of tree trunks. The sun’s setting dyed the forest a deep crimson. The stag jerked unnaturally, his head twisting in pain. An antler tangled in a cluster of branches. He thrashed, ripping off part of the wood before slumping. 

The pair raced forward to Ren’s kill. A hunter stepped out of the shadows of a massive oak. 

“Faster than expected,” Kijima said, crowing with delight. Confusion strangled his joy; his hand settled on the hilt of his sword. The hunter had slid back their hood, revealing not Ren’s face but a pair of luminous purple eyes deeply set in skin as white as the woods surrounding them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Kijima unsheathes his sword, turn to [Chapter 8](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68674377). If Hikaru steps forward and offers to sing for part of the meat, turn to [Chapter 9](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68674422). If the pair remains silent, stepping back in surrender, turn to [Chapter 10](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68674485#workskin).


	5. Chapter 5

Ren’s arms wrapped easily around Hikaru, lifting the other man into a secure hold against his chest. It was mere weeks ago he carried another this way. She was almost the same weight. His heart beat from something more potent than exhaustion and cold that day. 

Ren scanned the road ahead. Kijima plunged forward into the storm, his form nearly lost in the blizzard. “Hidehito!” Ren yelled. The other man never broke stride, Ren’s voice torn away into the forest by the wind. Ren stooped, grabbing Hikaru’s lute awkwardly. Hikaru shook, tremors running up and down his body. Ren wrapped his cloak around the bard, cursing under his breath. 

It was nearly dark. The road glowed like a white scar in the forest, but the blizzard blurred its edges, widening spaces between trees. Kijima’s voice kept catching on the wind, ghostly whispers of tawdry songs teasing Ren. The ground grew less steady beneath his heavy footsteps. He tripped, once, clutching Hikaru and bitten-off swear words against his chest. Hikaru was too still. 

The trees were close enough Hikaru’s boot dragged over their bark as they walked. Ren was almost certain Kijima was leading them off the main road. The wind tossed snow through the night in swirling bursts. Seconds of calm haunted Ren--the snow would fall, the white wall breaking into a sudden dark stillness before whirling back into white. Like being hunted by shadows blown by the wind. 

The wind slacked; darkness snagged his peripheral vision. Ren pushed on.

A voice called to him from the dark. “Surrender the bard, or this arrow lodges itself in your chest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If you hand the Speaker Hikaru, turn to [Chapter 11](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68803224). If you attempt to fight, turn to [Chapter 12](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68803257). If you run for Kijima, turn to [Chapter 13](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68803257).


	6. Chapter 6

“Takarada’s ass you’re done,” Ren cursed, dragging Hikaru back to standing. He ripped the edge of his cloak and wrapped the makeshift bandage around Hikaru’s fingers, then slung the bard’s lute over his own shoulder. 

“My precious--” Hikaru said, stumbling forward, his hands gripping at the empty air between him and the lute on Ren’s back.

“Hands under your arms. Come and get the lute if she means so much to you,” Ren said. He started to walk, his eyes on Kijima’s back but his hearing trained backward, waiting for the telltale crunch of snow as the bard started to move. A soft smile transformed his face for a moment when he heard it. Then the armor fell into place. He had a job to do, delivering this boy wonder to his lady fair. He unflexed his hand, forcing it down by his side before he ruined the bard’s lute strap from twisting it too tightly. 

The blizzard was unending, blowing harder as night fell solid and dark around them. Ren kept his eyes trained on the road and Kijima’s form. The wind tossed snow through the night in swirling bursts. Seconds of calm haunted Ren--the snow would fall, the white wall breaking into a sudden dark stillness before whirling back into white. Like being hunted by shadows blown by the wind. 

The wind slacked; darkness snagged his peripheral vision. Ren pushed on, counting the distance by the number of times he heard Hikaru stumble behind him. The bard’s teeth clattered loudly, but not loud enough to block out the sudden rush of footsteps clashing with their rhythmic march. 

Ren whirled. A figure stood behind Hikaru, his face covered by a white wolf mask. The wolf was grinning, his tongue lolling. A sliver of metal pressed against Hikaru’s throat, the moonlight forcing its way through the storm just enough to glimmer off its bare steel. Ren unsheathed his sword, holding it aloft. He pointed it at the wolf’s eye. 

The wolf cocked their head, standing just enough taller than Hikaru for the mask’s nose to brush against the bard’s hair. “Play nice,” he shouted, “or the bard paints this snowstorm red.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If you charge the wolf bandit, turn to [Chapter 14](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68830566). If you drop your sword, turn to [Chapter 15](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68830590). If you start shouting obscenities, hoping to catch Kijima’s attention, turn to [Chapter 16](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68830626). 


	7. Chapter 7

Branches rustled too sharply to be caused by the wind alone. Ren stood, his hand lingering on Hikaru’s shoulder for a moment. “Wait here,” he said. 

Hikaru nods, sliding forward to hunch over his own lap. Dead wood snapped off in Ren’s hands as he pushed through the hedge lining the Duke’s road. He moved slowly, one step at a time, aware of the cost of each delayed second for Hikaru’s hands but unable to risk losing the element of surprise. 

The forest was beautiful under the snowstorm’s spell. It opened itself before him, marred by no man’s passing. Ren ran his fingers down the trunk of the pine he hid behind, unwilling to step into the woods and break the perfection. No one had come this way since the storm began in earnest. He turned to rejoin Hikaru and Kijima on the main road and press on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If you will carry Hikaru, turn to [Chapter 5](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68674242). If you will force him to walk, turn to [Chapter 6](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68674290).


	8. Chapter 8

Metal rasped against leather, a sound eerily echoed in the shuffling of snow from a low-hanging branch. The hunter stood above the deer motionless, purple eyes locked on Kijima. Kijima held his sword low, his wrist locked, ready in an instant to slash the iron up and into the hunter’s core. 

“We mean no harm,” Kijima said. “Fellow hunters.”

A grin staggered slowly across the hunter’s face. Hikaru tried to turn away from it, scanning the woods beyond for Ren. It spread wider, ripping now against the edges of the hunter’s face. Fangs dragged down out of exposed gums. 

“Hikaru, back!” Kijima shouted. He raised his sword and charged. The hunter leaped, clearing the deer. It landed lightly, springing forward again before its feet made more than a knuckle’s dent in the snow. Hikaru turned and ran, the lute crashing against his chest. He heard Kijima’s grunt as he swung his sword turn sharp. He pressed his eyes shut, flinging an arm out to catch a tree and hide behind it. The sounds were liquid gasping now. Hikaru covered his mouth with his sleeve, strangling his own panic. 

The forest fell quiet. Hikaru could hear his blood pounding in his ears. He ground his cheek against the bark, forcing himself to stay grounded and calm. Sixty more seconds and he would look. 

Forty. Snow fell, a wet, sloughing sound. 

Twenty. A bird cawed, raucous laughter on wings.

Ten. His own heart, pounding pounding pounding. 

He forced his eyes open. The snow was lit brightly by the moon. A storm was gathering quickly, flurries already dancing on the wind. Hikaru slid his face around the tree, feeling the sting of the rough bark. 

A single caped figure stood over the deer. It was motionless except for the very bottom of its heavy cape, pushed and pulled by the rising wind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Hikaru should stay in hiding and wait, turn to [Chapter 17](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68830644). If Hikaru should sneak away, turn to [Chapter 18](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68830668). If Hikaru should sneak up on the figure and attack it from behind, turn to [Chapter 19](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68830692).


	9. Chapter 9

Hikaru licked his lips once, watching the hunter watch them. The deer thrashed between them; the hunter bent and ripped the arrow out easily, purple eyes never once leaving Hikaru’s face. There was only one thing Hikaru knew how to do while being watched: perform. 

He spread his hands slowly, palms forward. His lips spread with them. The hunter watched. Kijima’s hand remained still on his sword. He swallowed, then began.

“Oh lonely traveler, 

Wandering near,

Come join the feast

And comfort here…”

His voice sounded small, easily lost in the vast quiet of the woods. The hunter’s head cocked, a movement unnaturally graceful in its simplicity, like a branch bending beneath the wind. Hikaru continued, singing of lost ones being found, drawn closer to the warmth of a fire and friends. The hunter stepped over the deer’s corpse. He pressed a pale finger, its nail filed to a sharp point, against the underside of Hikaru’s chin. Hikaru sang on, staring into the hunter’s eyes, the slight movements of his jaw pushing against the hunter’s touch. 

He felt Kijima move beside him and jerked his hand.  _ Stay.  _ The pressure of the hunter’s nail increased, becoming almost painful. Hikaru sang louder. 

“Weary no more, 

Your journey is done--”

The hunter’s lips opened, mimicking the movements of Hikaru’s. Then he was singing, his voice a perfect copy of Hikaru’s. The hunter bared his teeth as he sang with Hikaru’s voice, his breath warm on Hikaru’s cheeks, the bard silent in shock at the sound of his own song on cold, pale lips. 

“Slumber, my love,” the hunter sang. His eyes brightened. Kijima growled; Hikaru heard his sword grating against its scabbard. The hunter’s arm moved more quickly than seemed possible, wrapping long fingers around Kijima’s neck and lifting him from the ground. The sword dropped into the snow with a soft thud; Kijima grappled with the hunter’s arm, his legs kicking uselessly beneath him. 

“For the day is won,” the hunter finished. He licked his lips, long canine teeth slipping out as if the track of his tongue called them forth. Then he bent, lowering his mouth toward Hikaru’s neck. His finger shifted to press against the vein lacing its way up the side of Hikaru’s neck. Kijima’s thrashing stilled even as Hikaru’s heart rate spiked. 

The hunter’s eyes widened then rolled back; his chin shoved forward, brushing Hikaru’s face. Kijima dropped, wheezing, scrabbling in the snow for his sword. Hikaru staggered backward as the hunter fell, sliding off the end of Ren’s sword embedded in his skull.

“Hunting,” Hikaru gasped. “No thank you.” 

Ren wiped his sword on a bank of snow before sheathing it. He knelt and examined the hunter where he lay. Then he was standing, dragging Hikaru and Kijima upwards. He pushed them toward the road, following the tracks they’d made. 

“The-- meat--” Kijima forced out between wheezes. 

“That thing isn’t dead. We leave now,” Ren said. “Where did you say that tavern was?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68622663). (And yes, I know the transition isn’t perfect, but I’m learning. XD)


	10. Chapter 10

Hikaru placed his hand over Kijima’s, stilling any outward movement from the sheathed sword. Kijima’s hand tensed beneath his, then relaxed. The hunter watched them for a heartbeat. A grin flickered briefly on the long, slender angles of its pale features, then it stooped, sliding the still-kicking deer across its shoulders like it was nothing more than a rolled blanket. Hikaru’s mouth fell open; his hand fell from Kijima’s. 

The hunter began to walk, his footsteps so light he made barely any marks in the snow. He tensed for one moment, his gaze drawn westward--then sprang forward, crossing ten yards or more with each bounding leap. 

“Good lord,” Hikaru said, scrubbing at his face. “Did you see?”

“Do I have eyes?” Kijima said, his hand still on his scabbard. He seemed to notice it was there and let it slide off, his stance relaxing back into a lazy slouch. “How could I miss that giant freak. With eyes like that, he wouldn’t be related to our lady fair, would he?”

“Purple and gold are opposite ends of the color spectrum,” Hikaru said, wiping a sweaty palm off on his breeches. “And who said you could use such a possessive pronoun?  _ Our _ ? There is no  _ our. _ ” 

Kijima shrugged and began to whistle. A branch snapping alerted them of Ren’s arrival. He strode over to their side, discontent at the results of the hunt engraved on his features. 

Ren kicked at the bloody snow in front of Hikaru’s feet. He looked at the bard, the question written on his face. 

“Wounded deer,” Hikaru said. His friend was already difficult enough to deal with; adding paranoia about supernatural hunters in the forest would make it nigh impossible to get anything done besides march and make fortifications. 

Ren’s eyes narrowed disdainfully. “And you didn’t think to capture it?”

Kijima shrugged, batting at a branch nearby. Snow sprayed Ren, who grew yet more stoic beneath the cold powder. 

“We were supposed to be hunting,” he said coldly. “Not taking a stroll.” 

Kijima turned away, heading back toward the road. “Since we’re obviously absolute shit at hunting, let’s off to where we can pay someone more useful to hand us meat.”

“Meat!” Hikaru said, running clumsily after Kijima. 

Ren tracked a set of light divots tracking south, away from the smears of blood. He stood, pulling the cowl of his hood over his head until his face was in shadow. “Wounded deer,” he said, rolling the words over his tongue carefully. He followed after his friends. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68622663). (And yes, I know the transition isn’t perfect, but I’m learning. XD)


	11. Chapter 11

“It’s a deal,” Ren said, dropping Hikaru into a snow bank at the base of a tree. Hikaru moaned, his hands reaching blindly in front of him. Ren tossed his lute down beside the bard and stepped back as Hikaru’s hands found the instrument and clutched it close. 

A man with a scarf wrapped around his face and arms as slender as birch branches stepped out from the brush beside Hikaru, steel-tipped arrow pointed at Ren’s chest. His eyes flicked once to the bard before hardening on Ren. 

“What have you done to him?” he said.

Ren’s hands raised. “It was the storm,” he said, taking another step backward. His sword was heavy at his side; too heavy to raise quickly enough to take down an arrow mid-flight. 

The arrow shifted, aiming upward at Ren’s shoulders. “Give him your cloak,” the man said. 

Ren frowned. “I’ll freeze.” The wind snuck inside his cloak, pressing it outward with a chilly blast in agreement. 

“So be it. Now,  _ Sir Knight, _ ” the man said, his tone making the title a curse. Ren unfastened the clasp of his cloak and threw it toward Hikaru’s form. The cold seeped into his bones with the quickness of an anxious lover. 

The arrow dropped; the man bent, wrapping Hikaru in Ren’s cloak. His neck exposed taunted Ren, and for a moment Ren considered charging and plunging his sword into the joint of shoulder and vertebrae. He stepped back instead, arms wrapping around his core. The man rose. His soft boots sank into the snow under Hikaru’s extra weight. He threw a glare full of spite at Ren, then turned and disappeared into the snow storm. 

Ren cursed, shivering as he plunged into the snowstorm after Kijima. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, proceed to [Chapter 20](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68830722). 


	12. Chapter 12

Ren shifted Hikaru’s weight, hefting him over his shoulder as he drew his longsword. “Challenge me again,” he said, “and this time--show your face.” 

A man stepped forward from the brush beside a cluster of pine trees. His face was swathed with a bandage, covering all except his eyes and a tuft of blonde hair. He held a longbow, arrow cocked tightly, drawn back snug against his cheekbone. “I show no man except a brother my face,” he said. The arrow quivered against the wind and the pressure. 

Ren spread his legs, shifting his stance to place his sword between Hikaru and the stranger. “Then I will see it when you die.” 

Hikaru whispered in Ren’s ear, his voice almost carried away by the wind. “Yuusei,” he said. “He is… brother.” 

Ren’s sword drifted lower; the arrow remained nocked. The man Hikaru called Yuusei narrowed his eyes, flicking for a moment to Hikaru’s form before focusing once more on Ren. 

“Yuusei,” Ren called. The man flinched. The arrow slipped, shooting into the air above Ren’s shoulder. 

“Fuck,” Yuusei said, throwing his bow to the ground. “What the actual--”

Hikaru laughed weakly, patting Ren’s backside. “Put me… down…” he whispered. 

Ren slid him down gently. His cloak slid with him, catching on Hikaru’s buckle. Yuusei hesitated until Ren jerked his chin, drawing him forward. Then he was kneeling, his hands wrapped around Hikaru’s cold cheeks. 

“What did you do to him?” Yuusei said.

“The storm,” Ren said. “Not me.” He beat snow off his cloak and wrapped it around Hikaru’s shivering form. The cold sank into Ren’s body hungrily. He stood, beating his arms against his core. “You have a place to take him?”

Yuusei nodded. “You will come,” he said, animosity set aside. 

“My partner,” Ren said, shaking his head. He scanned the white forest for Kijima’s form. 

Yuusei struggled to stand, holding the bundled Hikaru close against his chest. “You’ll freeze.”

Ren nodded, and left to search the storm for Kijima. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, proceed to [Chapter 20](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68830722).


	13. Chapter 13

Ren scanned the forest quickly, looking for the dark shape of Kijima’s cloaked figure. The forest was white, endlessly white. He cursed and hefted Hikaru over his shoulder, wrapping his forearm tightly around the singer’s calves. 

“Hold on,” he whispered, then vaulted over a fallen tree trunk. “Kijima, you fucking bastard! Kijima!” 

Hikaru’s chin slammed into his shoulder blades. A shout rang out from the brush now behind him. Ren bounced off a tree, stumbling on branches buried beneath snow. “Shithead!” he screamed. “Whore fucker!” 

A whisper harsher than any snow-filled breeze was the only warning he had before the arrow sank into his neck. He couldn’t breathe; Hikaru grunted as they fell forward into the snow. A man bent over Hikaru next to him, his hands brushing the bard’s hair away from his face tenderly. Ren coughed. His vision blurred, then whited out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, thou hast slain our goodly knight. The End.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	14. Chapter 14

“Play nice,” Ren echoed, letting the words drip with venom as the darkness inside him uncurled, twisting his mouth with bloodlust. 

The wolf’s knife faltered for a moment, slipping down toward Hikaru’s collarbone in a suddenly shaking hand. “You’re--” the wolf stuttered, his knife waving at Ren. He stepped back, pulling Hikaru off balance. “Black Jack!” 

Ren’s head slid sideways as he twisted the sword in the air, watching the bandit’s muscles move beneath his clothing, waiting for the moment to strike. 

“Ren,” Hikaru said, his voice soft, his lips barely moving. The knife flashed back to his throat. “Don’t.” 

Ren bared his teeth at his friend. Both hands gripped the pommel. If the bandit took one more step backward. 

“Ren,” Hikaru said, his voice pleading now. 

The wolf bandit stepped back. His heel caught on an upturned rock, slick with snow and ice. He yelped--his hands flew out as he stumbled, knife catching Hikaru’s ear. Ren rushed forward, his cape swirling behind him, sword slicing through the air for the bandit’s shoulder. 

Hikaru lunged. “NO!” he screamed. Then he was twisted, the bandit’s knife in his hands, elbows locked. Ren’s eyes went wide as the knife sunk into his chest. He staggered back, his hand on the hilt, his eyes on Hikaru. 

“H--,” he gasped.

“Ren,” Hikaru sobbed. “Ren--it’s Shinichi-- he’s my brother--” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, thou hast slain our noble knight. The End. 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	15. Chapter 15

Ren fought against the rising anger inside him at the sight of Hikaru held at knifepoint. He raised his sword, gauntleted fingers gripping the hilt tightly for a moment longer before letting it drop silently into the snow. 

“Good man,” the bandit said. He jerked his head at the remains of the path. “Off you go.” 

Ren didn’t move. He stared at Hikaru, waiting. Hikaru bit his lip, then gave Ren an infinitesimal nod. Ren began to turn, the movement slow enough he could see the bandit relax his grip just enough for Hikaru to crack his head backward and into the bandit’s jaw. Hikaru spun, slamming his fist into the other man’s jaw. Ren grinned, turning back in time to clap his friend on the shoulder. 

“Well done, bard,” Ren said. They stood over the unconscious bandit. Blood leaked from his split lip, staining the snow with drops of light pink. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for twenty-odd years,” Hikaru said, clapping his hands together. 

Ren cocked an eyebrow in question. “A head butt?” 

“To my brother’s face.” Hikaru grinned at Ren’s shock. “Annoying asshole.” Hikaru turned to the trees, raising his hands to his mouth. “Yuusei! Skeevy bastard, put that peashooter down and come help us carry Shinichi!” 

Ren stood openmouthed as a second man, wrapped in white rags to blend in with the swirling snow, stepped out from behind an ash tree. His eyes twinkled beneath blonde fringe. He kicked at the shoulder of the wolf-faced bandit. 

“Finally earning some man points, Hikaru?” the white bandit said.

Hikaru’s blush was red as rose petals against his pale cheeks. He grabbed the man he called Shinichi’s ankle and hefted it up as his only answer. Ren searched for his sword, wiping the wet off on his cape before striding over to grab the second ankle. He looked down at Hikaru.

“Plan?” Ren said.

“Best man,” Yuusei said, sticking his hand out over Shinichi’s body to reach for Ren’s. It wasn’t clear if he was labeling Ren the best man or claiming the position for himself. Ren had no plans to attend the wedding, so he let the ambiguity hang with the offered hand. Yuusei let both drop, reaching down to grab Shinichi’s shoulders. “Couldn’t miss him finally tying the knot with the second coming of Artemis for anything.” 

Shinichi groaned, his mask slipping up to reveal a youthful face that didn’t look anything like Hikaru or Yuusei. Ren’s brow furrowed. They began to walk, Ren scanning the treeline for signs of Kijima.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 21](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68830746). 


	16. Chapter 16

“Fuck,” Ren said. Then he said it louder. “Fuck!”

The bandit’s stance shifted. Hikaru blinked. Ren roared. “FUCK IT ALL, KIJIMA GET YOUR BLISTERING ASS OVER--” 

The bandit lunged, tugging Hikaru with him. He smacked a branch, causing an avalanche of snow to rain down behind them, obscuring Ren’s line of sight. He cursed, at himself this time, and ran. The wolf bandit was weaving through trees. Only his hand on Hikaru’s wrist linked the two together. 

“Hikaru!” Ren shouted. “Fall!” If he fell the link would break--but Hikaru kept running, tossing a single glance over his shoulder at Ren. Ren grimaced. He leaped over a holly bush. His sword beat uselessly against his thigh. Hikaru wasn’t stopping, wasn’t fighting the bandit at all. Ren pushed himself to run faster.

Something zipped past his back and thunked solidly into an ash tree. An arrow, sliced through his thick woven cape. The cape caught, jerking Ren backwards. He gulped for air, the cloak’s fastening tight against his throat. Fingers fumbled, found the clasp, threw it down. The cape slid open, falling from his shoulders to wrap around the tree. Cold embraced Ren instead; he shook it off and ran after Hikaru before the archer could fire another shot. 

The forest was empty. Ren looked down as he ran, following the deep tracks the pair had left. His mind was spinning. The footsteps stayed close together, Hikaru never once trying to jerk sideways or run. 

A second arrow sliced the air in front of Ren’s face. Ren ducked behind a tree, his palms and cheek pressed into the rough bark. 

“Back down, knight,” a voice yelled, lighter than the wolf bandit’s. “He will not be harmed if you let us leave.” 

Ren’s breath made a thick mist in front of him. He wiped off sweat, leaning into the tree. “Hikaru!” he shouted. “Hikaru!” 

The forest was quiet. Ren ducked out enough to scan the treeline. An arrow slit the space just beside his face. He cursed and jerked back, slamming his fist into the rough bark. 

Then nothing but quiet snow filling in all traces of their footprints. Ren wrapped his arms around his chest, retracing his steps to find his cloak. The arrow remained buried in the tree, but the cloak was gone. 

He would find Kijima and they would look for Hikaru together. Before he froze to death in this storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 20](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68830722).


	17. Chapter 17

Hikaru stifled a sob. He couldn’t even see Kijima’s body, hidden by snow or the deer’s corpse. He sank to his knees, wrapping his arms around his legs. 

He had to hide. That thing would find him, too. He had to hide. He wiped the tears off his face and looked around. A fallen branch had made a natural lean-to, covered with snow and dead leaves. Hikaru crawled over to it, snow seeping through his leather gloves and soaking his breeches. It took endless ages to get inside, moving a single inch at a time for fear of the ramshackle covering falling and betraying his location. 

Wet sucking sounds came from the clearing a short distance away. The hunter was eating. Hikaru trembled, sinking into the cluster of roots at the base of the tree, making himself as small as possible. His brain refused to turn off, scrolling hateful lyrics through his head already, turning the moment into a song of fury and loss. He rocked as much as he dared, pushing against his own mind with the tiny movement. 

The sun began to set. Hikaru rocked still, but now from cold setting deep into his spine. He would not--could not--leave his space. Ren would find him. Ren was his hunter, the only one that mattered.

Ren did not find him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, thou hast slain our bard. The End. 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	18. Chapter 18

Hikaru dared not look. He listened. All was silent. He could barely hear his own breathing. The forest lay beneath a blanket of snow lying about its purity. Hikaru grit his teeth against the hot tears filling his eyes.

The silence broke suddenly as the figure moaned. A solid thunk; it had fallen to its knees. Then wet tearing and gulps. Hikaru gagged; he pushed off the tree and ran. 

Branches snagged on his arms, held up to shield his face from the icy snow and wind. He stumbled; pushed himself up. He ran on, never once looking behind him but knowing what was there all the same. 

Then it was not behind him any longer but in front. 

Hikaru’s breath tore hot and ragged from his throat. He fell to his knees in front of a pale stranger with purple eyes, sharp fangs pressing against his bottom lip. “Please,” Hikaru whispered.

The stranger listened. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, thou hast killed our bard. The End. 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	19. Chapter 19

Hikaru dared not look. He listened. All was silent. He could barely hear his own breathing. The forest lay beneath a blanket of snow lying about its purity. Hikaru grit his teeth against the hot tears filling his eyes.

The silence broke suddenly as the figure moaned. A solid thunk; it had fallen to its knees. Then wet tearing and gulps. Hikaru gagged. The hunter was eating.

He wanted to run. He wanted to hurl. 

But that thing had killed Kijima. Hikaru pulled his hunting knife from its sheath and gripped it, the blade pointing down. He steadied himself, forcing himself to listen to the sounds of the creature’s meal until his breathing was even, the mist of warm breath in the cold air barely visible. Then he stepped out silently from behind the tree. 

The hunter knelt over the deer, hands splayed across its flesh, head buried in its neck. Hikaru fought nausea. He crept as close as he dared. 

The hunter stilled. Hikaru lunged with a shout, bringing the knife down as hard as he could, right at the creature’s neck. 

An ice cold hand wrapped around Hikaru’s wrist, catching the knife on its downward swing. Hikaru’s fingers spasmed as he stared down into hunter’s eyes. They were Kijima’s eyes, red as rusted blood. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Hikaru fights for the knife, turn to [Chapter 22](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68961228). If Hikaru drops the knife and tries to speak with this Kijima, turn to [Chapter 23](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68961405). 


	20. Chapter 20

The wind flirted obnoxiously with Ren, cold fingers creeping under his shirt and down into his boots. He bent his head against it, forcing his arms to beat again and again against his chest, trying to keep the core blood moving as he walked. He must not run, he must not sweat. The extra chill of evaporating sweat would kill him. 

“Kijima!” Ren shouted. He couldn’t scan the forest any longer. He could only look down, hoping the space he walked on was the path. Hoping Kijima had used the same path. 

Ren’s steps faltered. A hand gripped his elbow, pulled him against something firm. Hair blocked his vision, the teasing touch unfelt by cheeks numb with the wind’s bite. 

“Bloody hell,” Kijima said. “Take a tumble with a roadside biddy and get your cloak stolen?” 

Ren’s knees buckled with relief. Kijima sank with him, his hands working up and down Ren’s arms. Ren felt his teeth start to clatter, his body giving into its needs in Kijima’s presence. “B-b-b-bast-t-”

“I get it,” Kijima said, pressing his finger to Ren’s lips. “Where’s the little one?”

“T-t-t-”

“Titties?”

Ren growled. “T-taken.” 

Kijima cursed under his breath. He stood. Ren whimpered at the loss of the warmth as the wind sucked in around him again. Kijima dragged him upward. He was looking back the way Ren had come, his eyes held tight against the glare of the white snow. 

“No use tonight.” He tugged at Ren’s elbow, pulling him into the deeper snow off the side of the path. “We make camp. Inn’s farther than I thought.” 

Ren tried to protest, the words sticking in his mouth. 

“No use tonight,” Kijima repeated. “Unless you want to die.” A clearing opened up around them, with a stone formation near the center. “Found this, headed back to tell you,” he said, waggling on Ren’s arm. “Good thing I’m in front, huh? Got a nice cozy place to lay your popsicle.” 

He knelt, pulling Ren after him into a small cave made by the rocks leaning against one another. Ren leaned against Kijima in the same way, pride erased by cold. Kijima had a pile of wood in one corner. He struck two rocks together, blowing on the wet twigs. They lit, filling the small space with smoke but no warmth. Kijima opened his cape wordlessly. Ren sat in front of him. The cape draped around his shoulders; he leaned back into Kijima’s chest and fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, if Kijima should let him sleep, turn to [Chapter 24](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68961549). If Kijima should keep him awake, turn to [Chapter 25](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68961747).


	21. Chapter 21

It was much more difficult to maneuver an unconscious body around the tightly-spaced trees than to walk unhindered. Ren had enough after a few thousand yards and dropped Shinichi’s ankle. The other two stumbled at the sudden shift in weight. A challenge burst from Yuusei’s mouth. 

Ren scooped snow off a branch and dumped it on Shinichi’s face. The downed man convulsed, pulling inward enough that Yuusei and Hikaru were forced to drop his other extremities and he plopped in the snow. 

“Unfair,” Shinichi moaned, half his face buried in snow. He spat, then sat up, only swaying slightly as he rubbed at his jaw.

Ren stared at him for a moment then turned wordlessly and stalked off in the direction he hoped led to Kijima. “Brothers?” he said, tossing the question over his shoulder. 

Hikaru, Shinichi, and Yuusei followed, Shinichi with his arm wrapped around Hikaru in a blend of support and choke-hold. Hikaru looked slightly pale. “Of a sort,” he said. 

“We used to be a band before this one ditched us for a solo career,” Yuusei said, whacking Hikaru in the back of the head.

“All bards?” Ren pinched at his brow. Surrounded by bards might have sounded to some as a merry evening, endless parties, endless scores, endless accompaniments of famous deeds and derring-do. Kijima would love it. Ren felt a headache already coming on. 

Shinichi bit off a laugh with a wince. “Bards,” he said. “Hah! None but the pasty one. A band of brothers, robbing the rich and giving to ourselves.” 

“Aye!” Yuusei shouted. Snow sloughed off surrounding trees at the mighty volume. “Brothers!” 

Hikaru’s laugh was tinged with guilt. Ren finally made out Kijima’s back, a dark prick on the road ahead. He cupped his hands to his mouth and called the sharp, piercing cry of a hawk. Kijima paused, turning with his hands on his hips. He waited, leaning against a sign post with the miles to the village emblazoned on it. 

“Found some mouths to feed,” Ren said, walking straight past Kijima. 

Hikaru shrugged at Kijima, the movement pushing Yuusei and Shinichi’s arms upward and off his shoulders. They spun, bowing at Kijima as they passed. 

“Me lord,” Yuusei said.

“My liege,” Shinichi said. 

Both winked, then spun back around, lacing their arms back over Hikaru’s, a song full of innuendo bursting from Yuusei and spreading down the line of Ishibashis. Kijima barked a laugh, following in their wake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 26](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68961894#workskin).


	22. Chapter 22

Hikaru moved on instinct, not thought. He slammed his knee up into the chin of the thing that looked like Kijima. The head jerked back, but only far enough to slide off the end of Hikaru’s knee. Its mouth fell open. 

Hikaru tugged at his wrist, trying to pull it free. The thing worked its jaw, each rotation drawing a deeper smile forth. It stood, its shadow falling over the bard. “Kijima,” Hikaru said, the name a whispered prayer. “It’s me.”

Not-Kijima’s lips curled outward from its feral grin, baring the slow birth of long, white fangs for Hikaru to clearly see. 

“It’s me!” Hikaru shouted. He kicked at Not-Kijima’s leg, thrashing against his grip. Not-Kijima bent down in a slow, effortless motion like oil sliding across a wave. 

A hand gripped its shoulder and spun Not-Kijima around, ripping Hikaru with it. Ren shoved against the thing’s chest. It leaned into the push, an eerie dance beginning between the two larger men, with Hikaru crushed between. 

“The hell is wrong with your face,” Ren said. 

Not-Kijima let his head sink onto his shoulder, the angle bizarre. “My…” his speech was slurred, the single word forced through his fangs. “...face.” 

Ren’s smile back was something no natural man should have been able to make. His grip shifted, sliding to wrap around Not-Kijima’s neck. One thumb pressed deep into the side. “You have no pulse.” 

“He has  _ fucking FANGS _ ,” Hikaru screeched. “And you’re worried about—pulses!”

Ren waited, his thumb deep enough in Not-Kijima’s pressure point a mortal man would be on his knees. Not-Kijima ran his tongue over the tips of his fangs. 

“That,” he said, his voice still too thick for Hikaru’s comfort, “is going to cock up my next date.” He brushed Ren’s hand off his neck like it was a snowflake. A glance down at Hikaru, the bard still tangled in his grip. “Or make it much more interesting.” 

Kijima forced his lips around his fangs, hissing as they slid back inside his upper jaw. He tossed Hikaru aside and grabbed the deer’s corpse instead, dragging it away. Red painted his trail. 

Ren helped Hikaru up, his brow furrowed. He pulled his sword out silently. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should decapitate the vampire Kijima, turn to [Chapter 27](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68977383). If Ren and Hikaru should follow after him to the inn, turn to [Chapter 28](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68977416). 


	23. Chapter 23

Hikaru’s voice caught in his throat. He dropped the knife and tugged backward, his hand small enough it slipped easily from the thing’s grip. 

“Kijima?” Hikaru said finally. He felt behind him, catching hold of a snow-covered branch for support. 

The thing that once was Kijima moved slowly but perfectly as it twisted to look up at Hikaru. Its neck bent, black hair slipping down to shade one of the darkly glowing eyes. Hikaru turned--and ran. 

This was going to be how he died. After miles of walking, sleeping under the stars with two men and a piece of paper with her face on it, nothing to entertain him except writing yet another draft of the song for when he met her--he was going to be eaten alive by the zombie of his best friend. 

“Help!” he shouted. “Ren!” A branch snared his ankle; he stumbled. He spat snow, shoving himself back up, running again. “Ren! Kill Kiji--” 

A cold hand wrapped around his neck, cutting off his shout into a strangled gurgle. The thing raised Hikaru in the air easily, shaking him the way a terrier shook a rat. “Kill who?” it said with a sneer.

“Ki--Ki--”

The thing grinned, dropping Hikaru in the snow. Hikaru scrambled backward in the snow, his eyes latched on the predator above him. “Ren,” Hikaru whispered. “This is what I pay you for.” 

The thing craned its neck from side to side, unleashing a series of bone-cracking noises. Hikaru grimaced, turning his face away. When he looked back, it held one blue-white hand down toward him. Hikaru stared, open-mouthed.

“I just drained a fucking deer,” the thing said. “Get up before I change my mind and decide your blood is worth more than your pocketbook.” 

Hikaru stuttered, his mouth moving uselessly. 

“Fine,” the thing said. “Stay in the snow.” It turned, cape swirling around its legs. 

“Ki-- Ki--”

“If you try and make that my nickname today,” the thing said, “I will disembowel you.” 

“You’re a--”

The thing spread his arms wide, throwing his head back. He spasmed suddenly, his back arcing up then forward as he slammed his fist into the ground. It split beneath the impact. Snow fell from the trees around him, naked branches waving in the wind. “Vampire,” Kijima said, his voice breathy and finally recognizable to Hikaru. “Fucking amazing.” 

Hikaru pushed himself upright, lips chapped from all the mouth breathing. Ren was walking through the trees ahead of them, his bow cocked and pace steady. Hikaru glanced at Kijima, then at the bow. He went to stand next to Kijima, forcing himself to swallow down his fear as he jumped up and down, waving at Ren. “Ren!” he said. “I have--We have--we caught a deer!” 

Ren stood over the mess Kijima had left of the deer carcass, his eyes on the red staining Kijima’s shirt. “You caught the deer,” he repeated flatly.

“No,” Kijima said with a wide grin. 

Hikaru shifted his weight from foot to foot, edging away from Kijima slightly with each movement. “There was another hunter.” 

Kijima pulled his lips back farther, widening the grin into something too rictus to be a smile. Hikaru and Ren watched as thick fangs slid over his front teeth. Their breath fogged their air; Kijima’s did not. Ren’s hand hovered over his sword hilt then fell to his side. 

“Let’s go,” Ren said.

Kijima’s laugh shook snow off the tree beside them. “I’m a fucking  _ vampire _ , and all you have to say is let’s go.”

Ren shrugged, a movement made extra mocking by his broad shoulders. Hikaru glanced at Kijima, then ran forward to Ren’s side, matching each of the mercenary knight’s steps with two of his own. “Should we…” he started quietly, trailing off.

“I can hear you,” Kijima said, still standing, staring up at the trees. “I can hear e-e-e-everything…” He spun, his arms out, gauntleted hands striking snow off of branches. The night had fully fallen, moonlight glinted off Kijima’s ice-blue cheeks. 

“He’s more useful now than he was before,” Ren said, shifting his bow to rest on his other shoulder. “And he’ll have a harder time finding a whore interested in messing with those fangs.” 

Hikaru snorted. He glanced back over his shoulder. Kijima followed now, his eyes a dull, burnt red. He looked like a satanic version of a knight errant, all his teasing indolence made jagged and sharp with power. Hikaru would be writing a song about someone other than Kyoko tonight, for the first time in months. 

If they ever stopped walking, that is. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 28](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68977416).


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM A BLESSED BIRB. This chapter and it's following choices was guest-wrote by AkisMusicBox, the author behind Point For Me! She gave so much life to the story!! LOVE YOU BIRB

Kijima's first instinct was to wake him -- it was dangerous to fall asleep in the cold like this, or so his reading told him. As a scribe, Kijima had spent much of his life going from village to village, helping the poor and wealthy alike get their knowledge and wishes on paper. It left him to learn a little about a lot of things. 

One thing it didn't teach him about, however, is why once Ren closed his eyes, his medallion started radiating warmth. Not enough to burn, but enough to keep the chill from seeping into Ren's torso. Trapped in the cloak, it sunk into Kijima as well. It gave him time to think.

Hikaru had met Lady Kyoko at Lord Takarada's birthday celebration for his granddaughter, Maria. Somehow, turning ten justified a week long fete and feasting. Lady Kyoko wasn't a lady proper, but she was a favorite seamstress of Maria's that Takarada saw fit to raise in station, to be Maria's companion. 

Hikaru was smitten at first sight. Kijima recalled him already writing lyrics about the girl their first night there. Anytime Kijima had looked for Hikaru, there he was, either serenading or looking for the girl. Kijima had thought it was a mere fling, a harmless flirtation, but when they left the estate, Hikaru had announced his secret engagement to the girl. 

The engagement was secret because Kyoko would never dream of offending Maria and stealing her attention. Which, Hikaru fully accepted, claiming the desire to earn more money, to prove he could be a suitable spouse. Kijima had been nigh certain Hikaru would have fallen in love again once they had been on the road for a few weeks. 

He didn't. And by the time he was ready to go to Kyoko and ask the Lord for her hand, at the very tavern Hikaru had decided it was time, Ren had been there. "I'll take my payment when we arrive safely. My destination is that direction, anyway," he had said. 

It was all too quick for Kijima's liking. Hikaru had said it was destiny at the time, but Hikaru was missing. And Kijima wasn't a person who trusted destiny had his best interests in mind. 

So, before he fell asleep, wrapped around Ren, he slipped the knife out of Ren's belt and tucked it behind his own back. 

***

The sunlight glared harshly off the snow and into Kijima's eyes. His limbs were sluggish and stiff; he strained to uncurl himself from Ren's waking form.

Ren groaned. "Huh. We're alive." He pushed the cloak off of his shoulders, then touched the medallion. He shook his head. 

"Seems we are," Kijima croaked. Steeling his nerve, he wrapped an arm around Ren's chest and yanked him back. With the other hand, he pressed the knife to Ren's throat. Ren's body tensed like a bow string. Kijima leaned in and growled into his ear. "And if you want to stay that way, you better tell me why you have such a vested interest in a bard and an upjumped lass's fairytale."

Ren's lips curled back as Kijima's arm shook. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader, if Ren refuses to talk, go to [Chapter 33](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68977731). If Ren tries to talk his way out of it, go to [Chapter 34](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68977794).


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There comes a time in one's life when you are able to co-opt a genie into writing part of your fic for you. Now is that time. I introduce Aikori_Ichijouji's branch of our Renventure; they have authored everything from this chapter to this branch's end! LET US ALL COMMENCE THE FLAILING IN WONDER

“I think not. No rest for the chaste.” Kijima nudged Ren awake. “It is far too cold and this fire is far too weak for you to doze off. Sleep now and you sleep forever.”

Ren grumbled and wrapped his end of the cloak tighter around himself. Kijima shook his head and continued to blow on the paltry pile of twigs, trying to coax some semblance of warmth from them. Mostly, it just caused the pair to choke on the curls of white smoke that threatened to suffocate the entire cave.

“We could always use the lute for kindling,” Kijima suggested, pointing at the instrument case Ren left leaning against the entrance.

“That’d be sure to summon the bard in an instant,” Ren huffed a gravelly laugh. “I think he’d know if anything happened to it, regardless of where he is.”

“We should absolutely do it, if such is the case.” An impish grin spread across Kijima’s face.

“Kijima,” Ren warned.

“It was only a jest,” he defended. “Besides, even I know he’s as protective of that as you are of that odd thing hanging around your neck”

Ren grunted and shifted closer.

“Still not going to tell me what it is, are you?”

Ren sighed. Talking would keep him awake, but this was at the bottom of the list of broachable topics. “It is a memento and a promise. That is all you ever need know.”

“Fine,” Kijima drawled. “Knew you’d be stingy with the details, you—OH!”

Ren was left off-balance when his supporting structure moved away to shuffle closer to the cave’s opening. He managed to right himself before crashed onto the ground. With the warmth of the cloak and its wearer now gone, the chill returned with a vengeance and his teeth chattered their lament. His companion had opened the fastenings to the bard’s lute case and riffled around the interior.

“What in the Three Kingdoms are you doing?”

“Hikaru’s a bard,” came his vague explanation. “Logic would dictate that he has some parchment in here we could use for a better fire.”

Ren’s preemptive argument died on his lips at that. They were trapped in a tiny cluster of rocks in freezing temperatures. Needs must and all that.

“Behold!” Kijima cried, holding a handful of pages aloft. “I have uncovered loot from the lute!”

“I would use the blank ones, if there are any,” Ren cautioned, ignoring the weak attempt at humor. “The last thing I need is a death by lute string because we burned a prized sonnet.”

“Oh, boo, you’ve no sense of fun.” Kijima whined, moving to sit beside Ren once more. “All right, let us see what we can use.”

Ren took the opportunity afforded him by Kijima’s distraction to yank part of the cloak around himself. Kijima squinted next to him, trying to use what dim light the smoldering branches provided to scan each sheet. Each blank he came across was dropped into his lap as he continued his search. He mumbled intermittently to himself and Ren heard the words ‘Kyoko,’ ‘golden eyes,’ and ‘more romantic horseshit.’ He tucked his head as far as it would go into the collar of his armor and tried to ignore the desolate glow of his pendant.

“Oho, what’s this?” An exclamation from his companion pulled Ren from the fringes of sleep. “Methinks there is more to the bard’s tale than he has let on. Listen to this:

_“Your heart still yearns for another.  
__And I’m left with little sway.  
__Still I’d praise Fortune’s favor for all eternity_ _  
_ _For, in spite of that,  
__You chose to look my way.”_

Ren let several beats pass in silence before answering, until he was sure he could manage an unwavering voice. “So?”

“So, it means there is a previously unknown complexity to the relationship between Hikaru and his lady.” Kijima’s hands shook with excitement.

“That is none of our concern and an invasion of his privacy.” Ren fixed Kijima with a reprimanding glare. “Now, find the rest of the blanks and put the others back.”

“This was all I could find, actually.” Kijima pointed to the three empty pieces of parchment. “So, unless you want to freeze to death, help me decide which of these we can bu—”

_Shh-thunk._

An arrow lodged itself in the ground just outside their shelter with a piece of paper tied to the shaft. Ren lost no time in scrambling forward to snatch it out of the snow. Kijima huddled against him as he removed the paper and unfolded it. A crude map was scrawled onto it with a dotted line leading towards what looked like a fire and a rather comical stick figure that, Ren assumed, was supposed to be Hikaru.

“Bring the lute and your companion before sunrise, or else.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If you would like to hunt down whoever sent the mystery note, go to [Chapter 29](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68977479). If you would like to stay in the shelter, go to [Chapter 30](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68977542).


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thread of the story is still just meeeee if you were wondering XD

Ren didn’t see the lights of the inn until they were nearly stumbling over the front stoop, so thick was the whirling snow. Kijima tugged at the door; a drift nearly to his knees barricaded it. Hikaru huddled with his friends in front of an iced-over window, Shinichi banging on the frosted glass. “Custom!” he yelled, his breath a fog snatched by the wind. “Open up, we have coin!”

“Do we?” Hikaru said, his teeth chattering.

Shinichi shrugged, peering around Hikaru to Yuusei. “Do we?” 

Yuusei shook his head, Shinichi’s wolf mask now crowning his head. They traded things back and forth so often it made them seem interchangeable, like their bodies were props for a single personality. 

Ren reached over Kijima and ripped open the door, striding inside. The blizzard swirled in around him, raising a chorus of gasps from the half-full room. He dragged a chair over to in front of the fire, sitting in it and leaning forward, nearly touching the flames. His progress across the room had been swift, but purposeful. There were only a few patrons of note. Two men at the bar, one with tousled dark hair and a bow and arrow. The other was older, with a heavy mustache and an equally heavy tankard of beer. And a woman who leaned over a man with exhausted eyes, her chest grazing his bowl-cut hair. The outline of a knife showed beneath her tight bodice. 

A female inkeep came bustling out of one of the two exit doors, marking that one as the kitchen and a source of knives. “Masters,” the inkeep sang out, “close the door, have a seat by the--” she caught sight of Ren at the fire; her voice trailed off. “--by the bar. I have meat stew and the finest ale.” 

The cook followed more slowly in her wake. He held a wicked knife in his hand. His eyes landed on Ren as the door swung shut behind him, then never left again, even as he began chopping a rabbit’s hindquarters into bite-size chunks. Ren grunted, sloughing his cape off onto the chair. Snow melted from his boots, puddling on the floor. 

Hikaru was already striking a deal with the inkeep. She pointed to a stool in the corner near the tired man and his escort. Hikaru bowed deeply, sashaying over to perch atop the high stool and unwrap his beloved. His brothers clapped heartily, elbowing the seated patrons as they walked to the fire and Ren. Ren grabbed a tankard from a barmaid and buried his face in it. Kijima looked like he wanted to bury his face in the barmaid, but he leaned against the mantle instead. 

“I’ve half a mind to see if the innkeep needs my services,” he said quietly to Ren. “I’ve been out of funds since Takarada’s party.” 

Ren jerked his chin toward Hikaru. “Silver tongues bring silver coin.” He wiped his chin. “No need to charge for something you’d be willing to give for free.”

Kijima’s laugh was hearty. “Not those services. Good lord, man. Have you seen the cook? One wrong touch on the Mistress’s bosom and I’d be missing a hand. No, sir, my scribing.” He patted the small case strapped to his belt. 

Ren raised his eyebrows. “Honest work?”

“It takes some getting used to,” Kijima said with a dramatic sigh. “The swordplay I picked up from you is decidedly more interesting. But I am rather less likely to die with my first career.” With that and a wink, he wandered over to the bar. The innkeep nodded enthusiastically, gesturing for the cook to join her. Kijima would get them all a bed after all, it seemed. 

Hikaru began to play, a rollicking country tune meant to set people’s boots tapping and turn their hearts his way. He’d roll into an adventure or war tune next, gripping their minds--then finish them off with a tale of grief, dragging tears and coins from their palms. Ren’s beer was empty, and the whirling dance Yuusei and Shinichi had begun in front of him was only getting started.

A waitress swerved past him as she served beers, leaning down close enough he could smell the cloves on her breath. “Okami says your room’s ready, Sir Knight.” She licked her lips, a tiny movement Ren was well familiar with. “My name is Kimiko.”

He nodded, averting his eyes from her cleavage. He caught Kijima’s instead, the man falling back into his former occupation, a pen scratching away at a piece of paper as he copied some document down for the innkeep. The waitress walked away with a quiet huff. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should stay and make merry, go to [Chapter 35](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68978322). If Ren should go upstairs to bed, go to [Chapter 36](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68978352). 


	27. Chapter 27

Ren lunged, his sword ripping through the falling snow. Just before it bit into Kijima’s neck Kijima slumped forward. The lack of impact threw Ren off-balance; he skidded sideways in the snow, grunting as he redirected his sword up to block Kijima’s counter-attack. His sword sank into the metal of Kijima’s wrist gauntlet. He’d attacked Ren barehanded, his sword still strapped to his back. 

“Playtime,” Kijima snarled. Blood dripped slowly from his wrist, thick as honey. Ren back around him in a circle, drawing him away from Hikaru. 

The bard had other plans. The only warning Ren got was a shout of triumph as Hikaru sank his knife into Kijima’s neck. Kijima reached behind him, the knife crushed farther in as he grabbed Hikaru and dragged him up and over his shoulder to hang in the air before him. Hikaru twisted in the air, his face already turning red. 

Kijima’s sight of Ren was blocked, his attention focused. Ren braced his sword and rammed it beneath Hikaru’s arm, shoving forward with a roar as he pushed Kijima back, pinning him to the tree with a sword through his heart. 

“Bastard!” Kijima yelled, his voice breathless with pain. His hands scrabbled at the sword, cutting his palms on the sharp length. 

Ren ripped away Hikaru, throwing the bard several feet away into the grass. “Run,” he said. “Far.” 

Ren’s medallion glowed a dark black, light pulsing as it was sucked into the gemstone at the center. He began to whisper, his cadence picking up speed as the sounds of Hikaru crashing through underbrush faded into the distance. “ Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te… ” 

Kijima laughed. “Exorcisms on a vampire,” he said. He snapped his teeth at Ren, lunging forward up the sword. His eyes glowed the same bright red as the blood dripping lazily into the snow. “It will not work,  _ mercenary.”  _

An inch farther. Kijima obliged, his chest pressing against the hilt of the sword. Ren ducked down and pulled Kijima’s sword from its scabbard, the vampire far enough from the tree to release it without catching. Kijima slammed against the hilt; it broke free of the tree. Ren slashed at the same time, breaking Kijima’s head free from his shoulders. 

“Libera nos,” he said, holding the hilt of the sword as his friend’s body slid down off its length into the snow. 

He sheathed his blade, dropping Kijima’s in the snow beside the body. The woods were silent. Ren walked into the night, leaving Hikaru behind. 

The Fuwas would be waiting for his report that the wedding was off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, yo, this creepy thread is done. Can’t move on without Kijima. Definitely try again. The End. 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	28. Chapter 28

Night crept across the forest floor, stalking Kijima. He was twitching as they walked, his head snapping constantly from side to side--an owl, seen flitting through the branches. A deer’s track, smattered with scat. A fox with a wounded paw. Kijima caught that one by the tail, holding it up before his face. The fox screamed, an eerie, icy sound, its paws clawing at Kijima’s face. 

“Stop it,” Hikaru said, his voice grim. 

Kijima sat the fox down. It scampered off cock-eyed into the trees. “Thought you might want dinner too, bard.” 

Hikaru’s grimace was half-hidden in the streaks of moonlight through the trees. He wrapped his arms around himself. “Dinner would be good, but I don’t want it tortured first.”

“We were having a chat.”

“You are a beast.”

Kijima growled, or he laughed. It was difficult to tell the difference anymore. The warmth that had made his cockiness bearable was burning away beneath the branding iron of his new blood. Ren would have no trouble convincing him to leave off being a scribe to start a new mercenary company with him after this. 

Kijima stopped suddenly. Hikaru stumbled against his back; Ren caught the bard, holding him up by his collar. He watched Kijima scan the trees. “A scent,” Kijima said. “Shouldn’t be anyone out here but--”

“Step away from the bard,” a voice called from the shadows. “Or my arrow goes through your heart.” 

Kijima grinned. He crouched, then sprang--a single leap, his cape flying out behind him. The crash of branches beneath his landing drowned out Hikaru’s shout. There was a scuffle--Ren could barely see in the dim light--snow spewed from behind a bush. The woods stilled. Kijima stepped out, dragging a man’s body. The head hung at an unnatural angle. Kijima dropped it at Ren’s feet. 

“No,” Hikaru gasped, falling to his knees. 

Before Ren could ask, Kijima’s head snapped to the left. Ren held his hand out; his medallion glowed hot. In one swift movement he unsheathed his sword and threw it. The sword tore the glow from his medallion, arcing over a dense thicket of holly. A strangled scream followed the heavy thunk of its landing. 

“Ren!” His name was torn from Hikaru’s lips. The bard knelt over their attacker still, the man’s wolf mask gripped in trembling hands. His eyes scoured Ren’s face, a plea written in them. 

Ren frowned. “You… know them?” 

“My brothers,” Hikaru said. He started to sob, shoving himself up and away from the first fallen. Ren grabbed at his friend’s shoulder; the bard pushed him away, stumbling toward the thicket. His scream echoed in the woods. Kijima and Ren looked at each other, jaws tight. 

An hour passed. Hikaru sat silently between the two bodies, a living corpse. His fingers were tinged with blue, his lips dark grey. 

“We need to move on. The wind is too strong for a fire.” Ren said, standing above Hikaru, his cloak pulled tightly around himself. Hikaru shook his head, his first movement since they’d laid his brothers out. 

“I’m not leaving.”

“Hikaru--” Ren began.

Hikaru looked up at him. His eyes glowed in the moon’s light, hollow pits of anger. “I will not travel with  _ murderers. _ ” 

Kijima spat. “Saviors,” he said.

“Bastard.” Hikaru forced the word out between trembling teeth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should force the bard to go with them, turn to [Chapter 48](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68989074). If Ren should leave Hikaru behind, turn to [Chapter 47](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68988348). 


	29. Chapter 29

Ren tore the paper around the edge of the map, handing the scraps off to Kijima as he went along. “Take those and burn them along with the blank pages,” he directed.

“We’re not going after Hikaru?” Kijima asked, dismayed.

“We are,” Ren assured him. “But it’s getting colder out there and we’ve only a single cloak between us. Let’s get as warm as we can before setting out and hope the residual heat keeps us going for a while.”

Kijima’s lips rounded into a silent ‘oh’ and he nodded in understanding. Thus, the pair shifted about their small shelter, gathering what few branches they could find near the opening and adding them to the wads of paper that had sparked to life with bright flames. The resulting fire was enough for both of them to sufficiently warm themselves nearly to the point of perspiration. 

They set off into the forest once again, passing the cloak back and forth between them so they could wear it in turns. It worked well enough, as the wind had died down some, though the chill definitely started to set in once they were three-quarters of the way through their trek. The fact that they stayed constantly in motion was exceedingly helpful. As the self-appointed navigator, Kijima took the lead and walked ahead of Ren, stopping only to recall whether they were to turn left or right at the giant, gnarled oak tree.

Excited shouts and laughter drew them towards a clearing up ahead of them. Ren slowed down and drew his sword as they approached. He motioned for Kijima to do the same. Neither were prepared for what they found upon reaching the clearing.

Two taller figures danced wildly and without rhythm around a substantial fire, letting out the occasional whoop as they did so. And seated on a log, completely unbound and holding a dark green bottle, was Hikaru.

“What the fu--” Kijima began right when the revellers noticed their presence.

“Hey, it’s about time you got here,” Hikaru called out. “Come sit near the fire and warm up!”

“Care to explain what’s going on?” Ren asked, taking a seat on the log next to Hikaru.

“Ren, Kijima.” Hikaru gestured to each person as he spoke. “Meet my brothers, Shinichi and Yuusei.”

Ren took a long look at the two newcomers, marking the features in their faces that didn’t jive with those of their supposed kin. “Brothers?”

“By association, not by birth,” Yuusei clarified. “We wanted to give our dear Hikaru one last prose-worthy adventure before the big day.”

“And to make sure he didn’t perish in a snowdrift somewhere,” Shinichi added.

Kijima scoffed. “I thought that was our job.”

Yuusei and Shiniji just shrugged. “We also came bearing a message,” Yuusei added. “From Lady Kyoko.”

“She sent a small party to meet us in the next town and escort me the rest of the way now that the weather has turned for the worse,” Hikaru explained. “These two were part of that group.”

“We’ve tents and bedrolls set up already,” Shinichi pointed behind Hikaru at the two low tents protruding from the snow. “Yuusei even went back to free your cloak from that tree.”

“Well, far be it from me to look a gift bottle in the mouth,” Kijima said, pulling the drink from Hikaru’s hand and taking a whiff. “Or maybe I should. This smells like Tsukigomori liquor!”

Yuusei grinned. “That’s because it is.”

“Bottoms up, my new friends.” Kijima nodded approvingly.

Ren resolutely avoided the alcohol for the remainder of their time awake. A great majority of it, the others spent singing the loudest, dirtiest tunes they knew until both the alcohol and the hour brought them to heel. Hikaru’s brothers mandated that he would be staying in their tent, which left Ren and Kijima to, once again, share a small space in the hopes of keeping warm.

Morning came with a fresh blanket of snow on everything, rendering their campsite as naught but a cluster of white lumps of varying sizes. However, the clouds were replaced by bright sun to light their path onwards. Supplies were packed up and distributed as evenly as possible to share the burden and they made their way towards the nearby town. Ren was unsure how he would weather a seven hour hike with four individuals who’ve an incessant need to natter.

Thankfully the hours passed quickly enough. Ren wisely decided to hang back behind the group in the event of a surprise attack. It served also to remove him physically from any unwanted conversation. He had enough to think about with his journey coming to an early end.

They met with the other members of Kyoko’s delegation at a tavern on the edge of town, two young women by the names of Kanae and Chiori. Introductions were made and he only had to stop Kijima from making lewd remarks a total of three times; a record, as far as he knew. Still, Ren couldn’t help but recall the verse they’d found in Hikaru’s lute case the night before. Particularly when he watched Hikaru, his brothers, and the ladies talking between themselves with hushed tones and furrowed brows while stealing glances at him from time to time.

When he motioned to Kijima for them to take their leave and bid them all good luck, the ladies gave him a strange, hurt look. “You’re not attending the ceremony?” Chiori asked.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If you would like to attend the wedding, proceed to [Chapter 31](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68977569). If you will abstain and stay behind, proceed to [Chapter 32](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68977602).


	30. Chapter 30

“Here, add this to your pile to burn,” Ren instructed, handing the note to Kijima.

“But--”

“There are no other details after ‘or else,’ which means they haven’t yet planned to harm Hikaru,” Ren cut him off. “So long as we have his lute, they will wait. Or they will come to us.”

“All right,” Kijima relented, but still sounded uncertain.

He proceeded to tightly wad each sheet into the smallest ball he could before throwing them into the dying embers. Around it, he arranged a few more branches he managed to find just outside the cave. Both men let out a sigh of relief when the fire caught, illuminating their tiny shelter. They held their hands out over the flames, letting tongues of orange flick dangerously close to their fingers but never touching.

The hypnotic dance of the flames lulled the pair into a trance. Soon, their eyelids became heavy and the siren call of slumber was inexorable. And as all fire is fleeting, a fire built with paper is triply so. The flames burned bright, fast, and the warmth they provided made man into sleeper.

But the cold that crept in when the fire expired made them sleep  _ deeper _ .

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, a tragic end has befallen both bawd and brawler but, fear not! You may return to [Chapter 25](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68961747) to choose again.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	31. Chapter 31

Ren hesitated before nodding his assent. His initial plan was to bring Hikaru to the Darumaya Estate and slip away soon after before ever seeing Kyoko face-to-face. Her eyes were too keen and she’d figure him out in the time between two breaths. Now that he was agreeing to stay for the ceremony, extra caution would be required to keep to the fringes. As much as parts of him yearned to do the opposite, he was better off avoiding her attention.

He had plenty of time to consider his options during the, comparably, more luxurious final leg of their trip. The horse-drawn cart was modest and showed signs of age, but it was still much more comfortable than walking. Ren sat alongside the driver, leaving Kijima and Hikaru to regale the others with tales of heroic deeds. His capacity for niceties and inconsequential conversation waned with each passing hour as they drew closer to their destination.

The estate was unusually quiet upon their arrival but, small as it was, Ren assumed they, most likely, could not accommodate that many guests. That also meant he had fewer people with which to blend in. So he busied himself with toting his and Kijima’s belongings to their assigned room. What he found there was more than he’d bargained for.

“I knew you’d try to avoid me,” said the woman standing in the middle of the room, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed to the point that only the slightest hints of gold were still visible.

Ren sighed. “I don’t believe it’s proper for a lady to be in another man’s bedchamber the night before she is to wed,” he spat, while separating his things from Kijima’s and placing them on the floor.

“There was never going to be a wedding,” she said, causing Ren to halt his motions and turn to look at her. “All of this was orchestrated for you.”

All words had abandoned his lips. He could only gape at her in silence.

“I thought it was too cruel of a plan. I never wanted to use him like this.” She idly picked at the sleeve of her dress. “But Hikaru agreed to go along with it when I told him the only way we’d get you here was to fabricate a scenario in which my happiness was supposedly at stake.”

“You told him about my promise?” He frowned.

She shook her head. “No, that will always remain between us.”

“Then why?” he demanded. “Why bring me here? Why falsely call upon me to fulfill the promise? I swore to stay away until I could--”

“Find a way to clear your name, yes,” Kyoko finished. “I met and spoke with your father some months ago at one of Takarada’s affairs. He travelled a great distance to attend because he had important news.” She paused to steady the quaver that had invaded her voice. “Lady Tina has emerged from her self-imposed cloistering and rescinded her mandate that you be stripped of your title.”

All air left his lungs and Ren sank to his knees, his pendant glowing a dark violet. Kyoko approached him, slowly, cautiously, and took his trembling hands in hers. “Now you know why I had to do this. There was no other way to reach you.”

He’d been on his own for so long. Travelled so far in the hopes of this finally happening. However, now that it had, he hesitated. “I don't--what do I do now?”

“Oh,” she breathed, lifting a hand to rest it against his cheek. “You reclaim your title. Perhaps even return to your family’s lands and, if it’s your desire, I will accompany you.”

He swallowed. “You will?”

Kyoko reached into the collar of her dress, pulling free a long chain ending with a circular pendant. “Just as you gave me an important part of you, so too did I give a part of myself.” She pointed to his own pendant that now glowed a brilliant yellow just as hers did. “I kept your heart just as you kept mine.”

“I do.” He licked his lips, his entire mouth still felt impossibly dry. “I do desire it.”

She leaned forward until her forehead rested on his. He closed his eyes at the feel of it, inexplicably cool and warm at the same time. He didn’t need to see her to know she smiled, he could hear it in her breath, feel it telegraphed through the air.

“Welcome back, Kuon.”

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah, reader! You have found one happy ending. Good for you! Would you like to start again and find another?
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	32. Chapter 32

It was absolutely none of his business, he had to keep telling himself. The only thing he needed to know was that Kyoko would be happy and, since Hikaru proved that he was committed to ensuring that she was, there was nothing left. He didn’t need to intervene more than he already had. His job was done.

He had kept his promise. More or less.

“Kijima is more than welcome to do so but, now that Hikaru is in capable hands, I can attend to some other matters,” he spoke the words with a practiced smile of politeness.

“Ladies, I promise I will not be a disappointing downer like this one,” Kijima wrapped an enthusiastic arm around Kanae and Chiori. “I would love nothing more than to accompany you and enjoy some delicious food and drink at what is sure to be a fantastic shindig.”

Ren gave them all a short nod. “Please give my greetings to the bride.”

They left soon after, in hopes of making it to the estate before nightfall. Ren stayed and nursed two flagons of ale, letting that and the bustle of the tavern drown out his tumultuous thoughts. Unfortunately, the moment he stepped outside, they all came rushing in at once. He could feel the sharp pain of his heart cracking in his chest.

And he could hear the cracking of his pendant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dearest reader, welcome to the Heartbreak Ending™. Because not every story ends with sunshine and rainbows (as we have all clearly learned in a little story called this whole dang year). Not the ending you were hoping for? If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again!
> 
> \- Aikori Ichijouji
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of her thread, by AkisMusicBox!! ASDLFJFA this is one of my favorites and it definitely inspired one of my threads. Won't tell you which one. AkisMusicBox wrote Point For Me on Ao3, a fantastic fanfic where REN HAS FRIENDS so if you like the bromance here, check it out!
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 

With a snarl, Ren grabbed Kijima's wrist and twisted. Kijima shrieked as pain shot up his arm. Ren wrenched the knife from his hand. He flipped around and before Kijima knew it, he was being slammed against the ground, knife pressed to his throat. 

"My reasons have nothing to do with you," he said in a low voice as he straddled Kijima. "And if you want to get your bard back, you'll do what I say without question."

Kijima swallowed hard against the cold steel. "Why?" was all he could manage before the razor edge sent sharp fear down his spine. 

"He's not part of the contract," was all Ren said, eyes as dark as coal. "Dead bards aren't good for my reputation. Now that the blizzard has stopped, I can track the bandits with ease and reunite you with your  _ friend _ ." The last word came twisted out of his mouth. 

"I'll behave," Kijima rasped. And for some reason, that was enough to convince him to remove the knife. Kijima sat up and coughed. "What is that thing?" He pointed to the medallion. 

"Magic conduit," was all Ren said as he slipped out of the cave.

Kijima scrambled after him, snow surrounding them crunching under his feet. Despite the cold, the sun felt invigorating. "Magic? That would have been bloody useful before!"

Ignoring him, Ren scanned the snow until he found a divot in the virgin snow. He yanked a dead fox from it. "Life pays for life. This thing paid the price for us," he said. "Keeping two humans from freezing isn't cheap." He walked back to the cave, blowing past Kijima. The somewhat friendly Ren that Kijima had gotten used to was gone, replaced with whatever muscle-man this Ren was. Kijima supposed that was fair enough, considering his rude awakening. 

"I-I had built a fire!" 

Ren went back to the long-extinguished pile of half-burnt firewood. "Yes, you delayed our deaths by an hour before the wind picked up." He re-lit the fire and started skinning the fox. 

Kijima frowned. Ren scowled at him. "Shut up. You'll pass out before we even get near the bandit's camp." 

Kijima held his hands up. "I didn't say a word." He didn't consider himself squeamish, but the precision in which he separated connective tissue and pried apart joints equally fascinated and repulsed him. "You're being… rather inefficient though." 

Not even bothering to move his head, Ren's eyes locked on Kijima. "Not with the fox!" Kijima backpedaled. "Excellent… dismemberment skills. I mean about the mission. Your employer wants Kyoko, right? Hikaru and I are just in the way."

Ren stabbed a smaller stick and shoved it through a bit of fox. He held it over the fire. "My contract does not state that anyone must die. Him being a romantic fool is not an offence punishable by death. Neither is just being a fool." He raised an eyebrow at Kijima. "My employer’s son is also a prick, so I'm deciding if finally paying off my debts] is worth it if it's with this coin." 

Kijima leaned in. "If it's really coin you need, we can find another way. I'm a scribe! Take me to the most war-torn areas in need of peace treaties, and you can have ten percent of the proceeds."

Ren snorted. "Ten? Sixty."

"Twenty-five. I'll consider thirty-five if that fox doesn't give me a gut ache."

Ren smirked. His amusement was a sharp thing, but it felt well-earned, so Kijima smiled as well.

"You want to saddle yourself with me for the sake of him?" The words were a bit strangled as he said them.

"Blame the night of spooning for endearing me to you somewhat as well," Kijima said. "Sure you're a bit gruffer on the outside now but I've never been one to shy away from things getting rough."

Ren's expression turned wolfish. Kijima stifled a nervous laugh. 

"I haven't decided what I'm going to do," he said. And he left it at that until one of the legs was properly roasted. Despite the hot grease, Ren ripped it off with a bare hand and handed it to Kijima.

Kijima was nearly drooling when he bit into it, the grease running down his chin. He started feeling alive again, a bird was chirping in the distance, and he opened his mouth to thank Ren. 

Ren lifted a hand. His medallion glowed. 

"Aw, no, come on--"

With a tap on his forehead, Kijima's world went black.

\----

When he woke up, Kijima’s hands and feet were bound and his face was kissing the cold snow. He craned his neck upward to see blood-spattered snow and more divots in the snow, bodies peeking out of them. Then, past that, a fire, and Ren was hunched over Hikaru, dabbing at a cut on his forehead. Hikaru was drinking from a flask. Kijima groaned.

“Let him go!” Hikaru demanded.

Ren gave the rag to Hikaru and went to Kijima’s side. As he undid the ties, he leaned down to Kijima’s ear and said, “Kept my word, didn’t I?”

Kijima only grunted as he righted himself. He rubbed his wrist and grumbled, “Thought you hadn’t decided yet.”

Hikaru scrambled over and looked at Kijima over. “Are you all right?”

Besides still tasting the fat from the fox in his mouth, he was fine. “You were the one who was snatched. You alright?”

Hikaru nodded, then tried to say something, but Ren cut him off. “We need to get some things straight.” He was crouched next to the two, knife out, gesturing as if one would wave around a tankard. He snagged the flask from Hikaru. “My contract dictated that I ensure Kyoko Mogami does not wed before, my employer, Yayoi Fuwa, was able to speak with her. Fuwa wanted to convince her that she should wed her son.” 

Ren took a quick drink. “Now, when I first met Fuwa’s son, Shotaro, I despised him. Not keen on seeing him happily settled. Would have to be a really wretched girl for me to want to see her wed to him.” Ren pointed the knife to Hikaru. “He’s stupid, but not stupid enough to want a horrible woman, so I’m assuming she doesn’t deserve him.”

He took another drink. “My original idea was to seduce the girl myself. Kyoko would stay single and Fuwa would figure something else to do with her son, feeling so gracious that their family dodged a wanton daughter in law I’d still get paid. Doubt it would be too hard, based on this lout’s story.” Again, pointed at Hikaru. “Head full of fairies and curses and tales. Still wouldn’t be too hard if I told her her fiance died trying to reach her.”

Hikaru stiffened. Kijima shook his head. “You’re not going to do that.”

Ren pointed the knife back to Kijima. “But I could, with very little effort, and that’s all that really matters in the end. What I’m saying is that between me sending a message to Fuwa about Kyoko’s location and Fuwa receiving it, there’s a lot of time. For example, I could go seduce Kyoko, or I could deliver Kyoko a message about Fuwa’s intentions, and Hikaru’s location, which would be far, far, away from the Takarada estate. She could be gone before Fuwa’s party ever arrives.”

“Where?” Hikaru asked and Kijima wanted to smack him. Of all the questions, that couldn’t be the most important one at this moment.   
  


Ren rolled his eyes. “Go to the bloody  _ coast _ for all I care. Slow down this  _ nonsense _ about wedding after barely knowing each other a week. At the very least, get to know the girl and understand those who conspire against you and her happiness.”

Ren looked back to Kijima. “Teach him some common sense while you’re away. I’m not made for these things.”

“Why should I trust you?” Hikaru asked, voice tight.

Ren was positively annoyed to look back to Hikaru. “You’re an imbecile so I know your life means nothing to you. Do you value his so little?” 

Hikaru bit his lip and for a moment that lasted an eternity, he stayed like that. Then, he said, “Do you have anything to write with?”

___

Hikaru may have been stowing himself away in the cottage for all of the best hours of the day, picking at his lute from time to time, but Kijima couldn’t force himself to join him. The sand was too warm and the sun was too bright for him to wallow indoors. The crush of the waves and the call of the gulls kept his nerves at bay.

Two weeks later, when their coin was running thin and Hikaru was drunk more often than not, Kijima saw two figures appear. One, chestnut-haired, golden-eyed, haloed by the sunset. The other was a harbinger of the night to come.

Kijima stood and shook the sand off of him, speechless. He pointed to the house. Kyoko ran to the cottage. Ren kept walking toward him. 

“You owe me money,” he said. “I’m still wildly in debt so you’re stuck with me.”

Kijima grinned. “I’m nigh broke myself. We’ll make a good pair.”

END


	34. Chapter 34

Ren swallowed. “You don’t want to do this.”

Kijima tightened the grip on the knife. “I didn’t want any of this. I wanted a warm bed and some drunk people who’d smile nice at my charming party.”

“And you don’t want Hikaru to marry Kyoko.” The words fell like stones.

Kijima gritted his teeth. “I want him to wed someone he knows and loves, not just thinks he does.”

Ren tilted his head to Kijima, the blade close enough to shave him. Kijima could feel Ren’s breath on his skin. “Then our interests are aligned. I was hired to prevent Kyoko Mogami wedding anyone before my employer spoke to her. That’s it. We get Hikaru to leave her alone, I send Kyoko’s location along, and my job’s done.”

It felt too good to be true. “Why should I believe you?”

Ren shook his head. The blade ghosted against his skin without cutting him. “Believe it or not, I’m a man just trying to pay a debt to a widow. That’s all. But my employer’s son’s a prick. And through all of this, I’ve found myself fond of you two fools.”

Kijima remained silent. His hand was shaking too much to be considered a proper threat, but he had to stick his ground. He didn’t before and that’s how Hikaru got in this mess in the first place. “How’d you keep us warm?” he asked. “There’s no way the fire lasted long enough.”

A slow hand tapped the medallion on Ren. “Magic. It’s costly, though. Life gives life. Life takes life.”

Kijima peeled the blade away. He slumped against the cave wall. Ren turned and cocked his head to Kijima. “I will get Hikaru back. But first, there’s a fox that died to keep us alive. Shouldn’t be left to rot.” 

Kijima could hear a bird chirping in the distance. He nodded and handed the knife over, in a haze. Ren took with a small smile. Then, he tapped Kijima’s forehead. “Sorry.” 

Kijima’s world went black.

___

****  
  


Kijima woke up, propped against a hard tree and the icy, snow-coated ground. The scene in front of him is chaos: blood-sprayed snow, bodies scattered in unnatural angles, carts splintered, and a fire in the middle of it all between him and the living.

Ren was dabbing the cut on Hikaru’s forehead as Hikaru drank from a flask. Kijima braced himself against the tree and tried to shove himself upward. He failed. Ren huffed. Hikaru called out, “Kijima! Are you okay?”

“Just waking up,” he grumbled. Then, before he could realize it, Ren was in front of him, helping him up. Kijiima gave him a bewildered look that seemed to genuinely sting Ren. They made their way back to Hikaru.

“What happened?” Hikaru asked warily, staring Ren down. “Why was Kijima unconscious?”

Ren sneered. “Because Kijima putting a knife to my neck every time I closed my eyes would have hindered my rescue efforts.”

Hikaru gave Kijima a wild look. “Come on, Hikaru, wasn’t it just a little too convenient to find a bodyguard right when you were ready to go back to her? He’s muscle looking to keep Kyoko unwed. You’re not the only one looking for her hand and they’re apparently a dangerous lot.”

Ren snagged the flask from Hikaru and took a hearty drink. “Killing is not stated in the contract, not that dangerous.”

Kijima gestured to the carnage surrounding them. “What’s all this then?”

Ren smirked. “The effects of a self-imposed quest to keep you both alive.”

A quest that worked contrary to him trying to pay back the widow, Kijima realized. Out of a self-proclaimed fondness for them.

_ Fondness _ couldn’t possibly be the right word, but perhaps it was the one most available to him. Kijima found a smugness in Ren’s eyes as if he were waiting for Kijima to thank him profusely for his selflessness, to beg for forgiveness for mistrusting him. But Kijima just studied him to the point Ren’s gaze had to find the flask and drink once again.

“Kyoko would be safer if I didn’t go to her, correct?” Hikaru asked, voice hollow. The two looked at him. “I could go to her, lay my intentions bare and my knowledge of you, but when it came down to it, I’m not a swordsman. I’ve not enough coin to pay you off, or any other agents that come for Kyoko. I could be bringing all kinds of chaos to her adoptive family’s home because of my impetuousness.” His head hung low. “Worst of all, I put my childhood best friend in danger at the same time. Left at the mercy of an assassin.”

“I’m not an  _ assassin _ ,” Ren spat. “I --”

Kijima put a hand on his shoulder, urging patience. Ren exhaled slowly. 

“I need to write to Lord Takarada,” he continued. “Tell him the truth, everything I’ve done, and about whoever hired you, Ren. Kyoko may hate me for it, may never speak to me again, but…” He shook his head. “A man deals with the consequences of his action.”

On shaky legs he made his way to one of the corpses, turning pale as he looked at the gore. “I… I don’t have a shovel. How -- how do I --”

“Ground’s frozen solid,” Ren said. “You won’t get the bodies buried even if you did. Best thing is to cover them with snow and mark the locations. Tell the priest in the next town where they are. He’ll see to it they are handled correctly. Tell any family if they recognize them.”

So they did. Even as Kijima’s fingers went numb, he didn’t complain, as he wasn’t inclined to break Hikaru’s concentration. He recognized that face -- he wore it when he was deep in thought, composing his words before they ever hit paper. This composition wouldn’t be in song, however.

Ren was silent as they buried, and even more silent as they made their way to the next town. When they arrived at the tavern, Hikaru got himself a room and went to locking himself away in it. Kijima ordered him and Ren ales. Only when they were seated did Kijima speak. “Don’t hold his words too harshly against him. It was a rough draft is all.”

Ren scowled. “Rough draft?”

“Yeah, it’s a first attempt,” Kijima explained. “Practice at trying to capture everything in your head and laying it out logically. So calling you an --”

Ren shot a glare at him. Kijima held a hand up. “Calling you  _ that _ was the only thing close to describing how he felt at the moment. He took a stab at organizing the chaos in his mind, that’s all. And what he was trying to say was that he was dead lucky that you actually ended up being a softie.”

Ren rolled his eyes and took a drink. “Sometimes your judgement lapses when you spoon someone all night.” 

Kijima smiled. “Messes you up a bit inside if you think too hard about it. ‘Specially considering that I almost slit your throat afterward.”

Ren barked a laugh. “No you didn’t. You were shaking like a leaf in a gale.”

“I didn’t see you trying to escape,” Kijima teased.

“I wouldn’t have had to try if I wanted to. I just didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you? Too cold outside the cave, just a few more moments in bed, darling?”

“Close enough.” Ren took a drink. 

Kijima cocked an eyebrow at him. “See? First draft. You want to take a shot at revising?”

Ren shook his head. “You’re a clever boy. Do it yourself.” He looked in the direction of the rooms. “What’s Hikaru going to do?”

Kijima ran his finger around the edge of the tankard. “Likely wait in this village until he either gets a summons to the estate or banned from his lands. That’ll take a few weeks, maybe a month, which means impending poverty will leave me to seek work in the nearby areas. All I really know is Takarada won’t take well to you being hired to prevent two young people from being silly and enamored with each other, so your employer will be confronted about it, I know for sure. Who knows? He might want to pay you off. Might be worth you sticking nearby if that’s the case.”

“Hmm.” Ren looked into his beer. “And do what?”

Kijima started ticking off fingers. “General bandit removal, finding lost children, manual labor -- I mean, look at you, you’re huge, you can lift things -- or you could be my bodyguard.”

Ren snorted. 

“I mean it! The roads are clearly not safe. Plus, bringing a bit of muscle with me gives me a bit more clout. Better rates, more interesting requests.” Kijima tilted his head to the side. “I’m no fool. I’m not asking for forever. Just awhile. See how this story ends if you’re truly fond of these characters.”

Ren shook his head. “Why did I use that word?”

“Care to revise?”

“No,” he said. “But, I will stay. Just for awhile.”

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BROMANCE BY THE EXPERT AT BROMANCE, AKISMUSICBOX!!! Love you birb


	35. Chapter 35

Ren held his finger up; the waitress Kimiko was at his side immediately. “A drink.” Her smile was an oil slick asking to burn. “Make it several,” he said. 

She curtsied. Yuusei and Shinichi whooped with delight when Kimiko returned with a tower of beer, the top glass held secure by the press of her lips against its rim. She sat the tower down, then handed the top glass to Ren, her eyes meeting his over the foaming head. “Sir Knight,” she said. 

Ren took a sip from the other side of the glass. It was weak, but tasted less like piss than the last inn’s. Shinichi had already drained his and was starting on a second. Yuusei balanced three in a dripping tower, weaving around patrons to Hikaru’s side. 

The fire was warm, but did little to chase the cold from Ren’s veins. He fingered the medallion around his neck, warm with magic. Of those still living, only the mage Takarada and the girl had ever seen him without it. He was tired of the lies, but had little choice. Tina needed his help but wouldn’t accept it from who he had been. 

He drained another beer. The fire’s flames danced hypnotically. Ren let his mind wander back to a forest clearing and simpler work. “Make her laugh,” he said to himself. So far away, now. Kimiko was back, her bosom pressing against his arm. 

“I enjoy laughter,” she said, her voice like rotten candy. 

Ren thought about shrugging her off. But he was cold, and her skin felt warm on his. He set his beer down and stood, following Kimiko upstairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End. Because Ren, no. No. No. No. No. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Turn your eyes from this cursed page and find another path because NAAAAAAAAAAAAAOWWWWWWW.


	36. Chapter 36

Ren stood, the chair scraping back on the floor behind him. The fire was useless to him, unable to break through the spell slowly draining the heat from his body. He slipped the medallion, hot with magic now, under his tunic and turned away from Shinichi and Yuusei, from Hikaru’s song and Kijima at the bar. The door to the stairwell opened to a dark, close set of stairs barely wide enough to fit his shoulders. A single lantern on a small table perched on the top landing beckoned him higher but gave no light to the cramped climb. 

Ren’s feet felt heavier with each step away from the merriment below. Hikaru’s crystal clear voice rang out, following him, lacing itself with the deeper, more raucous tones of his chosen brothers. Ren should leave him now. There were other jobs, though finding one that would pay as well without demanding bloodshed would be difficult. He worked at the bindings on his tunic as he climbed, readying himself for a fast descent into slumber before he thought too hard about what Yaoyi Fuwa had asked him to do. 

_ Stop this wedding, Tsuruga, and I will pay you a year’s wages.  _

Her son had sneered down at him, leaning lazily back against the Fuwa carriage’s cushioned side.  _ A year’s wages for that slum thing is barely enough to buy decent meal, mother. Make it two.  _

Yaoyi had just nodded, agreeing with her son.  _ Bring her home,  _ she said. 

Ren folded his cloak over his arm, his tunic hanging loosely over his breeches. He should have brought a drink up with him. Something to numb the decisions hanging, waiting for him to choose money or friendship. He knew next to nothing of the Mogami girl, except for the sketch Hikaru carried around with him and his ceaseless adulation in verse. She was an angel, a nymph, a succubus, a high and holy priestess, a rose, a butterfly, the sound of laughter--

No, that was actual laughter, not one of Hikaru’s lyrics. Ren’s hand hovered over his own doorknob, his attention focused on the door at the end of the hall, where a woman’s laughter rang out again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should go inside his own room, turn to [Chapter 37](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68978397). If Ren should go to the room at the end of the hall, turn to [Chapter 38](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68978424). 


	37. Chapter 37

Tonight was not a night for merrymaking; it was a night for sleep. Ren twisted the doorknob and stepped into his room.

At least he thought it was his room. Apparently he was wrong. A woman in a blindingly pink dress sat perched on top a man’s lap. She held a cup full of some amber drink to his lips. Small black boots with silk laces peeked out beneath her full skirts. She was speaking soft and slow, a ceaseless murmur than didn’t falter at all when he strode in. Only her eyes flicked to him and then back to the man. They were the color of honey. 

Ren twisted his cape in his fist.  _ Maiden fair, with locks of gold / and eyes of honey of which stories are told _ . A rough draft, a particularly annoying one, and Kijima’s favorite to sing around the campfire endlessly. 

Only the Adam’s apple of the man on the bed moved, a steady bob as he swallowed what Kyoko Mogami offered him. 

Ren bowed curtly, shut the door, and stalked back downstairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 39](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68978442).


	38. Chapter 38

Ren tossed his cloak over his shoulder and walked slowly down the dimly lit hall, letting the women’s laughter guide him. He should not be doing this; he should be going to bed. Or bedding the waitress. This was something Kijima would do, and the buzz beginning to lodge at the top of Ren’s throat made him realize he might know why. The door was ajar slightly. The light inside flickered, a deeper orange than the anemic light from the hall lantern. Shadows flitted across it, breaking through like fairies on Midsummer’s Night. Ren felt the chill of a draft rising from downstairs. His palm pressed against the door. It opened slightly, revealing to him a four-poster bed draped in red satin sheets and a table littered with partially eaten fruits and bread crusts. 

A slender hand wrapped around the door and pulled it the rest of the way open. Ren stood face-to-face with a strikingly beautiful woman. She weighed him, her eyes never once leaving his. Her nose wrinkled. She tossed her hair, long and dark, dramatic in the firelight. “Chiori,” she said. “This one’s yours.”

Chiori sprang off a pile of cushions near the fire, her lips stained with wine and her hands crumpling a sheet of parchment between them. She turned, throwing the paper in the fire. It flared up brightly, and Ren realized for the first time both women were wearing a shade of pink brighter than any dye he’d seen before. Chiori smiled up at him. Something was off about her smile, a little too forced to make him truly comfortable. 

“Want to have some fun, Sir Knight?” she said, grabbing a bottle of wine off the table beside her. “We don’t bite. Much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should stay with Chiori and the other girl (do you know whooooo), turn to [Chapter 40](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68978484). If Ren should refuse and go back to his room, turn to [Chapter 37](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68978397). 


	39. Chapter 39

Kyoko Mogami was here--upstairs, not at the church she’d told Hikaru to meet her at, but at an inn fifteen miles away, sitting on a man’s lap dressed like a prostitute. He had a choice to make now. One that wasn’t any of his goddamned business. He threw his cloak over the end of the bar, claiming a stool next to the archer. The archer said nothing, just sipped at his beer. The perfect companion. 

Kijima was nowhere to be seen. Hikaru was chatting with the tired man, his purse thicker and rounder than before the first set of songs. Ren watched him, watched the way he smiled. It was such an easy, childlike smile. He let his eyes rest on Shinichi, Yuusei, picturing them with spring flowers tucked behind their ears, grinning as Hikaru said his vows to a-- to a-- Ren ordered a tankard of spirits large enough to drown any responsibility in and chugged it. 

The innkeeper appeared again to refill his tankard. Ren tossed a second pile of coin on the counter. “Keep them coming,” he said. She smiled at him, tucking a stray wisp of hair back into her neat bun before beginning to stack glasses in front of him. The archer raised one eyebrow at the length of the line of Ren’s to-be-drunk. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should make conversation with the innkeeper Okami, turn to [Chapter 43](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68978538). If Ren should try and talk to the archer instead, turn to [Chapter 41](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68978505). 


	40. Chapter 40

Ren bent forward, close enough to Chiori he could feel her warmth before he snatched the liquor out of her hands and stepped past her into the room. “Suits me,” he said, taking a swig from the bottle. He sat in a wingback chair, legs spread, waiting to see what the women would do. 

Chiori glanced at the other girl, confirming who was in charge. The other was lighting some kind of incense. After the first sharp tang of smoke and acid it smelly woodsy, almost like damp earth. Ren took a drink, his eyes slipping from her to the fire. She drew near while he stared, pulling the liquor easily from his hand.

“Not so fast, Sir Knight,” she said. She stood straight as a church steeple, her raven hair its stained glass. The raucous pink they both wore was difficult to look at. Ren kept twisting away, his eyes forced to wander. There were three of everything here except beds. Three cloth bags, three hair brushes, three chairs near the vanity. One bed. 

“Where’s the other?” he said. 

Chiori laughed. “With a man.” The other hissed at her. “What, Kanae? It’s true. And she’ll come back fifty times richer, the way his pocket book looked.” 

The one called Kanae looked furious. Ren felt too relaxed to care, sinking lower in the chair. He crossed his feet and uncrossed them. It made triangles with his boots, black-edged triangles. That must have some meaning to it. The room smelt of sage and hot coals now. He breathed deeply, so deeply his inhale drew open the door and drew in a third woman, an angel.

“Kyoko,” he said with a smile as golden eyes and golden hair broke the monotony of wood and pink. She jumped with surprise. He heard his own laughter, rich and lazy like a river. It made him laugh harder, laugh and laugh until the room was shaking and he was going to hurl. “What’s… the drink,” he said, not caring but curious. 

Kanae handed him the bottle, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. “It’s not the drink,” she said. Smoke swirled around her lips. She was a dragon, and he was the flame. He burned. 

“Kyoko,” he said. Again, or for the first time. This was a loop--she was coming in, and he knew her. He’d always known her. She’d lived in his mind long before he saw her on Hikaru’s parchment, the artist’s ink stripping her of life and stuffing her into black and white. “He got your nose wrong,” he said, pressing his own upward. 

She was close to him. He was surrounded with pink, a sea rising up to swallow him. He would die, suffocating in pink, and finally be able to tell Kijima whether colors had a taste. He reached for the pink, burying his face in the swathes of softness. It tasted like everything else did, like nothing. Ren began to cry. He wrapped his arms around the pink, drawing it closer to him. 

“Kanae,” he heard someone say. He tried to sink farther, to bury himself inside the rainbow. “Is that drugs?” Laughter rang out. Ren recognized it. He wanted to find something other than himself, someone to distract him. He stood, walking toward the laughter. It sang behind him, different this time, and yet the same. It was a laughter he knew from before, from before Rick, from before Cedric.

He sank to his knees. Someone stood in front of him, their laughter falling like water over the stones of a small brook hidden deep in the forest. Their fingers brushed his chest, tugged at the necklace he kept safely around his neck. “Iolite,” she said. He reached for her. She was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 44](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68978565).


	41. Chapter 41

Ren studied the archer for a moment, then slid half of the pile over. “Join me,” he said. “Fuck work.”

The archer wove the fingers of one hand through the other. Ren watched them, watched how easy it looked to join hands. “Or drink by yourself,” Ren said. “See if I give a damn.”

The archer let out a quick burst of air at that, somewhere between a scoff and laugh. He picked up the glass nearest to him and drained it, swallowing hard. A pause; he wiped his lips. “Fuck work,” he said, then clinked his newly emptied glass against Ren’s. 

The music started again. Ren groaned and slammed back two more drinks. The counter felt softer now, giving beneath his touch. He liked it, liked the smooth beauty of the wood. Hikaru sang of monsters in the wood. Ren traced the swirls in the wood and thought about the monsters inside man. 

“What kind of work are we fucking?” the man next to him asked. He sat another glass down. The second? Or the first again? 

Ren took another from his own pile and drained it with a smile at the innkeeper. The innkeeper glanced at the stairwell. Ren waved at her. “Made it up once,” he said. “Will do it again, ma’am.” She nodded and refilled his stacks with whiskey in exchange for another slid coin. 

The archer’s lips were pursed. He did not like being ignored. “Ladies first,” Ren said quietly. He turned to face the man, looking at him over the rim of his next victim. The archer was of a height with Ren, or near it. One of the few men he could look at eye-to-eye. He found he liked it, seeing the bridge of someone’s nose from this angle. This one had a curl laying just to the side of it. 

“I am a mercenary,” Ren said. He tipped the glass back. The alcohol warmed, clawing at his throat its whole merry dance down. 

The archer didn’t even blink. “Count?” 

Ren’s nostrils flared. He leaned forward, bracing himself on the bar. “Mercenary,” he said slowly, his eyes jumping from the archer’s bow to the knife at his hip. “Higher than yours.” 

“Forty-seven,” the archer said. 

Ren whistled and slid one of his drinks over to the archer. “You’ll need this,” he said, “for you are but a babe in the art of slaughter.” 

The sound that came from the mercenary archer’s throat sounded like a growl. Ren laughed, watching his face twist in anger and wondering whether the archer had been paid more for each hit than he had. “What’s it like?” he asked, waving his liquor at the man’s bow. “Killing from a distance?”

The archer licked the alcohol off his lips and sat the glass down before answering. “I can show you, if you’d like,” he said. 

Ren studied him, his hand holding up his chin. Sounds and lights were blurring pleasantly, spreading around him like the warmth nestling deep in his stomach. “Name,” he said. “And you have a deal.”

“Koga,” the archer said. “Hiromune Koga.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 42](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68978517). 


	42. Chapter 42

The morning sun forced its way into the room like a battering ram. Ren squinted against it, rolling over, his hand searching for a pillow to hide beneath. His head pounded, the rhythm of his pulse far too loud and forcing his stomach to turn uneasily. His hands found something much warmer and softer than the pillow the innkeep provided.

Ren bit off a curse, grimacing as he turned away from the other man in his bed. The air was cold on his bare legs when he thrust them out of the covers, and for a moment he just sat there, his head hanging back. The ceiling was bare. Nails holding down the roof planks jutted through. Ren ached, badly. He couldn’t even remember the man’s name.

He could remember how many people he’d killed, though. “Forty-seven,” Ren whispered. “Bullocks.”

Ren’s cloak lay over a wooden chair near the entrance. He glanced back at the sleeping archer before standing and walking over to it. A piece of paper lay folded on top of it. Ren opened it, blinking several times before his eyes would focus on the spidery print. 

_ Ren-- Found Kyoko! Can you even believe? _

_ Left to get married. All wedding party here and ready. _

_ Thank you for your service. Would have woken you, _

_ but you seemed… occupied.  _

_ Best, _

_ \--H _

Beneath his cloak, the full sack of coins he’d seen tied to Hikaru’s waist. Every penny the bard had promised him in exchange for seeing him safely to his bride’s side, and then some. 

“Breakfast?” the archer muttered from the bed. “I assume you’re buying after the way you used me last night.” 

Ren threw the bag of coins at him and sank into the chair, his head in his hands. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we have arrived at an End. As Aki said, is it enough for happiness to merely be alive? 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	43. Chapter 43

Ren tossed one of the drinks back and cleared his throat, forcing his mind to focus. He would order no more after this. A single set was enough to ease his fears without ruining his judgment. He glanced at the man next to him, then waved at the innkeep. 

She smiled at him, wiping a glass in her hands with a threadbare white towel. “Yes, sir knight?” 

“Ren, please,” he said to her, waving away the honorific. “I am no knight.”

“Oh, I had assumed--”

“Mmm,” Ren said, gesturing at the sword by his side. “Mercenary.” 

The innkeeper’s eyebrows rose at that, her gaze lingering for a moment on the necklace that hung around his neck. She scanned the crowd in the bar, then refocused on Ren. “On contract at the moment, sir?” 

Ren nodded towards the bard singing near the fire. “By the young one. Escorting him to his wedding day.” He waited a beat, ensuring he had her attention. “Young love is a precious thing, isn’t it?”

The innkeep nodded, her eyes warm and bright as she watched Hikaru sing. She swayed slightly with his song. “It is. Will you be having another?”

“A drink, no. A love? One can hope.”

She blushed, a smile full of joy changing her face at his words. Her gaze darted back toward the kitchen. Ren could imagine a happy home here for her, and was glad. He took advantage of the moment, fishing for information. “I had a love once. A girl with golden eyes.”

“Oh my,” the innkeeper said. “Like our Kyoko! Such a rare trait.”

“Kyoko?” Ren said, sipping his drink. “Does she live here?” 

“Yes, with her two friends. She’s engaged, as well. But--” the innkeeper leaned in, whispering to Ren, “--I imagine it is not a happy engagement.” 

Ren forced himself to swallow his alcohol. “No?” he said, keeping his voice bland. “Something with the lady’s… habits?” 

The innkeeper sighed, her eyes misty as she looked at Hikaru. She seemed to have no knowledge he was the one intended, or of Ren’s suspicions. “The lady is perfection. It is her heart.” 

Ren frowned. “A disease?”

A soft chuckle from the innkeep, then she spoke. “You could say that. Her heart was taken many years ago by a stranger from another land. She’s never recovered from loving--oh, what was his name.” The innkeeper’s fingers flitted in the air. Ren felt his heart mimic her movements, jumping anxiously. “Bread? Potato? Something odd. Something food.”

“Corn.” Ren stood. “His name was Corn.” 

The innkeeper clapped her hands. Ren was turning and running up the stairs. He heard boots following after him, and the twang of a broken lute string. Kijima tugged him back just as he reached the door to their room. “Ren!” he said, his eyes wide with concern. “Brother--what is wrong?” A small group stood behind them on the stairs. Hikaru, near the top, with the waitress Kimiko beside him. She glared at Ren hungrily, her straight bangs partially obscuring one eye. 

“I’m Corn,” Ren said. “I need to--” 

The door opened without his touch. Kyoko stood before them, her hair mussed and a leather purse in her hand. Behind her, on the bed, a man slumbered deep enough he looked dead. 

Hikaru gasped. “Kyoko!” 

Kyoko jumped in fright; she dropped the bag. She glanced over her shoulder; Hikaru pushed past Kijima, his arms flung wide. Kyoko ducked beneath them, her face screwed up in shame. Then she was falling, a scream tearing from her lungs as she tumbled down the stairs. The waitress tucked her foot back under her, not fast enough to hide her smug smile from Ren’s eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, Kyoko has been slain. The End. 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	44. Chapter 44

Ren woke to red, and no pink. Red satin surrounded him, his face buried deep in the sheets of the four poster bed. It was night still. He was alone. He threw off the covers and found himself fully clothed, only his purse missing. 

Ren ran, taking the steps three and four at a time. He flung the door open to a room full of bodies. Sleep and drink had stolen the night from everyone here below. Kijima lay near the stage, a half-full tankard at his hip. Hikaru was wrapped around his lute, his cloak tucked up like a blanket. 

He kicked at Hikaru’s leg. The bard came awake with a shriek that roused Kijima and drew the innkeeper out of the back, holding a lantern. Her lantern’s light swayed, the shifting shadows making Ren dizzy. He clutched at the stool Hikaru had perched on to sing, glaring over his shoulder the the innkeeper. “You run a house for prostitutes and thieves,” he said. 

Hikaru gasped in protest. Ren felt Kijima grab at his cloak. He shrugged him off, stalking between the tables to the innkeeper’s side. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you insolent young man!” the innkeeper said angrily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should force the innkeeper to tell the truth about Kyoko and the girls, turn to [Chapter 45](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68987427). If Ren should tell Hikaru himself, turn to [Chapter 46](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68987481). 


	45. Chapter 45

Ren lunged over the counter, leaning in close to the innkeeper. “Your kept woman upstairs,” he snarled, “drugged me and robbed me.” Her eyes widened, but beneath them her jaw was hardening in stubbornness. Ren reached across, his hand about to close on her shoulder when the cook’s cleaver sunk deep into his head. 

“Do not touch my wife,” the cook said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. We had suspicions the Taisho was not a fan of Ren. Ren should know better than to threaten such a wonderful woman as the Okami. The End, you insolent youth you. Go learn to eat a fish properly and try again! 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	46. Chapter 46

“Ren, calm down,” Kijima said, waving an ink pen in the air. It marred the paper he was working on for the innkeep. He frowned, scattering blotting sand over the mess.

“Calm. Down.” Ren pushed off the bar and turned to confront his friend. He pointed across the room as Hikaru. “I just saw his lady fair--or her doppelganger--upstairs. Her and her companions drugged and robbed me!” 

Hikaru’s mouth dropped. His eyes darted toward the staircase, his hands already moving to securely pack away his lute. “Kyoko is upstairs?” Hikaru asked, not looking to Ren for his answer. 

“Kyoko is a--” Ren began. 

The words “Thief,” and “Lady,” clashed together over his “prostitute.” The women from upstairs stood in the main hall’s doorway, pink cloaks draped over pinker dresses. It was impossible to tell which had spoken. A smile upturned the faces of both the ones in the front, Kanae and Kyoko, as they looked at each other. 

“My lady,” Hikaru said, dropping his lute. He ran to her, clasping her hand in his and falling to one knee. “My love.” 

Kyoko let him kiss her hand, her eyes flicking to Ren over his shoulder. Kijima clucked in his ear. “Did she steal more than your purse?” 

Ren’s hand wandered to his chest, the space feeling hot as the magic seeped through him. He didn’t need any more spells now and forced himself to calm. “No,” he said, glaring back at Kyoko. Hikaru stood, interrupting Ren’s line of sight. He turned away, back to the innkeeper. “Throw them out,” he said. 

The innkeeper crossed her arms over her chest. Her cook stood behind her, arms crossed the same way but with a cleaver nestled inside his fist. “No, Sir Knight. She provided you a service, did she not?” 

Ren heard Hikaru begin to protest and cut him off with a chop of his hand. “None.” The word tasted bitter. He had not wanted her to, he reminded himself. 

The innkeeper’s eyebrow raised. “A warm bed and medicine to soothe your aches is not a service?” 

Ren frowned at her. “I did not request--”

“The traveler looked weary, Okami,” Kyoko said from behind him. Her voice was more musical than Hikaru’s. Ren hated how much it made him want to turn and watch her lips move. He put his hand on his sword, holding himself in place. “We took excellent care of him and only charged the usual rate.” 

Kanae stepped forward, her full skirts brushing Hikaru’s hair out of place. “If a discount is necessary to soothe your pride at needing a woman’s help, Sir Knight,” she said, the misnomer spoken like a stab wound, “we are happy to assist your reclamation of manhood.” 

Ren could feel the pressure from clenching his jaw start to work its way into a headache. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should accept Kanae’s offer and stay inside, turn to [Chapter 49](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68989134). If Ren should turn her down and go outside to cool off, turn to [Chapter 50](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/69012384). 


	47. Chapter 47

Ren’s stride into the woods faltered as he caught the sound of Hikaru’s grief on the wind. Kijima walked on, his back straight. A smear of blood from the deer still stained Kijima’s chin, cracked and rust-colored against his pale skin. Ren turned around without a word, leaving Kijima to do as he wished.

He laid his hand on Hikaru’s shoulder. Beneath his palm the bard trembled with cold and sorrow. Ren knelt. “We must bury them.” 

Hikaru pushed his hand off. His own hands knit into fists. He nodded, standing, avoiding looking at Ren. He wiped snot from his face with his sleeve. Ren broke a forked branch from a dead tree and handed it to Hikaru to use as a makeshift shovel, then stooped and began pushing snow to cover the corpses with his hands. 

They worked. Kijima leant against a tree and watched the forest around them. His posture was easy, but he was rigid with awareness. When they moved on to the second man, Kijima climbed a tree above them and jumped once on a branch. Snow cascaded down, burying Ren, Hikaru--and the body. 

“Done,” Kijima said. “Now we leave.” His glance at Ren was full of a caution Ren hadn’t seen since he was turned. Ren frowned, looking over his shoulder at the woods Kijima watched. 

“Is there something?” Ren asked. Hikaru struggled to brush snow off his hands, staring at the two mounds. 

Kijima just shrugged, but his eyes wouldn’t leave the darkness between the trees. “Hurry,” he said. The wind was picking up, tugging at the vampire’s hair. 

Ren grabbed Hikaru’s elbow. The bard protested sharply. “We must,” Ren said, forcing command into his voice. “Now.”

But wind was already whipping snow into a frenzy. It circled them, an unnatural wall of white. Ren tried to force his way through and was thrown back, stumbling into Hikaru. Hikaru sank down on his knees. “Leave me,” he cried. 

A woman stepped through the snow wall. She was blue, the unearthly blue of a glacial crevasse. Her limbs looked made of solid ice but flowed as fluid as a dancer’s. The air inside the walls grew still and cold, like her presence had frozen every molecule. “You have marred my kingdom with blood,” she said. Snowflakes fell from her lips as she spoke. 

Hikaru gulped back a sob, scrambling over the ice toward his brothers’ bodies. “We will take them,” he said. He glared at Ren and Kijima, his eyes feverish. “We will take them away, we promise. Promise, Ren!” 

Ren grimaced. He bowed to the ice queen. Her brow furrowed into deep chasms. “The dead are mine,” she said. “It is the undead who trespass.”

Kijima leapt for her. His hand wrapped around her throat, his knife scratched a white line across the ice of her eye. She laughed, her mouth widening with the sound, growing larger and darker until Kijima faced a maw of icicles as long as swords. Her jaw snapped down, snapping the vampire in half. 

Ren drew his sword, standing over Hikaru. “Let us pass,” he said. 

The queen’s mouth collapsed back in on itself like an avalanche. Beautiful once more, she stepped through the pieces of Kijima. “The dead are mine,” she repeated. Ice flowed from her fingertips, lancing Ren and Hikaru’s hearts. Their bodies froze, life seeping out into the ground, until all that was left was a pair of ice sculptures guarding the fallen. Snow fell silently, smoothing the hard lines of grief on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we have come to an end. Could you tell who the ice queen is? 
> 
> Please enjoy another path if this one left you wanting.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	48. Chapter 48

“Bards,” Kijima said, an epithet on his lips. He reached down and slung Hikaru over his shoulder, ignoring the bard’s thrashing. He walked quickly, the only sign of any emotions over the night’s events. Ren didn’t know him as well as Hikaru did, didn’t know how he processed things--or if the vampire blood was changing that, too, but it seemed that losing himself and then killing his best friend’s brother should have some sort of an impact. Ren kept one hand on his sword and his focus sharp. The magic in his medallion pulsed just below the surface, ready to drain him for a spell if needed. He was cold, colder than he should be even in this storm. The strain of keeping up his disguise spell was starting to show. 

The inn appeared in the distance, warm and welcoming, long before Ren had thought it would. Kijima’s pace had been supernatural. Ren’s limbs were nearly frozen; he’d been using magic to keep up. He needed a meal, and a bed. 

Kijima ripped the door off its hinges, grunting at it and tossing it aside. He walked in with Hikaru slumped over his shoulder, a yeti carrying its prey. Ren sat the door back in place, already feeling the coins draining from his purse to pay for repairs. An innkeeper was bustling over, a round woman not hard enough to look her age. She glanced at the door then burst into her sell before demanding recompense. “A room, good sirs? Only two crowns a night.” She waved at a waitress. “Kimiko, see the travelers to their room to change. We have meat stew for dinner tonight, sirs.” 

Kijima threw Hikaru into a chair by the fire, the force skidding the chair closer by several inches. Hikaru slumped forward, holding his head in his hands. He was still able to move. Kijima glared at Ren then strode back outside into the storm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should stay with Hikaru and try to get him to eat something, go to [Chapter 51](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/69013212). If Ren should follow Kijima outside, go to [Chapter 57](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70673373). If Ren should ignore both of them and head upstairs to his room, go to [Chapter 53](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/69520368).


	49. Chapter 49

Ren turned and bowed stiffly. He walked to the bar and reached across it, pulling an empty glass from the storage. Ren wrapped his fingers around it, four-high. “This full,” he said to the innkeeper Okami. She huffed, staring him down for a moment. “I have coin,” he reminded her.

The cook nodded. The innkeeper pulled a bottle from the bottom shelf and pulled. Behind Ren, conversation jumped in to fill the silence. He chugged the liquor, setting the glass down and gesturing for another. The innkeeper brought seven instead, her face set. 

In the seat next to him, an archer grunted his disapproval. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 41](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68978505).


	50. Chapter 50

Ren ignored their words. He scowled at the innkeeper called Okami and pushed past Kijima and through the door. The wind hit him, trying to push him back inside. He refused, pressing into its embrace instead. Better to have the howling wind block out his senses than stand inside and be ignored. 

A brief moment later the door opened, warm light turning the bitter wind into gold shimmers before snuffing out. One of the women--Chiori--leaned against the railing beside him. He ignored her, studying the dark forest and lines of trees he couldn’t see. 

“The wedding party leaves tomorrow. Could use a man like you,” Chiori said.

Ren laughed bitterly. “Easy to rob?”

“Mercenary.”

He turned toward her. Her face was cast half in shadow, half in light. “Planning to pay me with my own funds?”

The skewed light made her grin look twisted. “Kyoko heads to her mother’s. It is difficult territory. We need a guard.” She paused, her face darkening. “An experienced one.” 

Ren couldn’t think of many things he’d want to do less. But Kyoko’s laughter was ringing through the thin windowpanes of the inn, and Fuwa’s agreement with it. A thousand gold coins to break up the wedding. He nodded curtly, his cape swirling around him as he turned to head back inside. “Fifty coins,” he said over his shoulder. 

“Deal!” Chiori yelled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 54](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/69520422).


	51. Chapter 51

Ren waved at the waitress Kimiko. “Stew,” he said, pointing at Hikaru and himself. “And beer.” 

She nodded, a tight curtsy accompanying her smile. The purposeful way he eyes lingered on his made him uneasy; he turned away from her toward Hikaru. The bard sat slumped, staring at his lute. It started to slip from his hands, drifting inch by inch to its resting place on the floor between his feet. Moisture dripped from his clothing, wet stains inching precariously close to the lute’s case. Ren reached over and picked up the lute, setting it to rest against the side of Hikaru’s chair. The bard didn’t even flinch, his eyes still fixed on the place it had been. 

Ren sighed and scrubbed his hand through his hair. The stew arrived. He thanked Kimiko, keeping his words bland. The soup was full of chopped peppers and spice, a heat warming his core from the first bite. He nudged Hikaru’s elbow. “Eat,” he said.

The bard picked up a spoon and poked at the stew, his eyes still sightless, staring at a space between two floorboards. He swallowed. A spot of gravy specked the corner of his mouth. Ren held out a mug. “Drink,” he said. 

Hikaru took the mug without looking. Foam laced his top lip. He sat the mug back down in Ren’s hand. Ren finished his dinner and took Hikaru’s. “Are you going to eat?” he said. 

The bard shook his head. 

Ren stirred the soup, weighing his options. He could eat it. Should--conserve energy. Not waste food. He didn’t want it though. He wanted Hikaru to eat it. He sat the stew down in Hikaru’s lap. “Eat.” 

The innkeeper stood near their table, smiling calmly. “Your room is ready sir. I took the liberty of placing you and your companions in one room, unless you’d like to be upgraded.” 

“Upgrade, please,” Ren said, not wanting to endure Kijima’s new nighttime wanderings or hunger. 

“Very well. Only 5 coins for the night then,” the innkeep said. “And another one for the food.” She stood by their table, her hands folding, her look expectant. 

Ren took a deep breath. Hikaru remained silent and unmoving. “I can pay you with my services,” Ren said. 

The innkeep laughed the short, quiet laugh of someone used to being lied to about money. “I need no bodyguard, sir.” She waved her arm about the room. “We are peaceful people. 5 coins.”

Ren rubbed at the back of his hand with his thumb, pressing down on the vein. “I don’t have the coin right now,” he said. 

The innkeeper stood above him, her hands on her hips. Ren saw something behind her mask and ventured out in hope. “I’ll do anything. Just-- a warm bed, for my friend.” 

She faltered. Her eyes flickered to the kitchens. “Help my husband with the cleaning tonight,” she said. “You are lucky I have a spare room. But if any paying custom comes--”

“--the floor down here,” Ren said, nodding in agreement. 

And so he found himself in the kitchen, his cloak hanging off a nail on the back of the door, his tunic rolled up high above his elbows. Lye stung chapped skin, working the rawness from wind and cold rawer still. He set another dish on the stack, diving his hands into the bubbles to find the next. 

Next to him, the cook grunted. He hadn’t stopped scowling since the innkeeper, named Okami, escorted Ren back to the kitchens and introduced him as the Taisho’s servant for the evening. Taisho was prepping food for tomorrow, or so it seemed, vegetables and meat alike falling to pieces beneath his blade. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should try and make friends with the Taisho, turn to [Chapter 65](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70674276). If Ren should hold his own and return rude treatment to the Taisho, turn to [Chapter 66](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70674360).


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claraowl here, hopping on the CYOR collab train so persie can collect all the birbs. Prepare for something fluffy, cuz that’s what you’re getting!

“There’s nothing romantic about it,” he grumbled, picking up some more firewood. “And I’m not running from the law. I’m just trying to pay back a debt.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked up at him. “To Lord Takarada?”

“No.” He should just walk away, let her have her fantasies. But something about her -- the fact that she had lived in his mind for so long, perhaps -- forbade him. 

“True, that’s not his style. You’d be more… well, you’d be pinker.” She tilted her head to one side, then, examining him. “What type of debt needs a disguise?”

“One that refuses to be paid otherwise,” he spat. Why was he telling her this? The necklace burned on his chest. He saw her eyes flick down to it for a moment. “You never answered me about knowing about iolite.”

“I never said I didn’t know iolite! I said I don’t know  _ you. _ ” She glared up at him. “And it’s common for spells. Fairies love it.”

_ What? _

“I wish I was a proper fairy,” she mumbled, her hand drifting to her pocket. “I could just fly away. I wouldn’t have to do this to Hikaru.”

“Do what?”  _ Dammit, I’ve only just started growing fond of the stupid bard. Is she going to poison him after the wedding? She  _ is _ good with medicine. _

“Make him marry someone like me.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Make him face my mother. I have to try, though. And maybe I can learn to like him well enough… ugh, why am I telling you this?”

He stared at her for a moment, his mind whirling.  _ Okay, she’s not going to kill him. Good. But she doesn’t love him. That is… also good. This works for me.  _ “You just want to escape your mother?”

She refocused on gathering firewood. “Yes,” she said at last, her voice small. 

“And you know about iolite.”

“I told you that! Fairies love it!” She looked back up at him now, her eyes blazing. He could feel the warmth from them. 

“What do you mean, fairies love it?”  _ There’s no way… but there is. Crap. I’m not going to get the Fuwas’ money, am I? _

“A faerie gave one to me when I was little! A faerie prince, at that!” She puffed out her cheeks. He couldn’t tell if the color was from the cold or embarrassment. 

_ Shit. I’m definitely not getting their money. _ “What?”

“Oh, shut up.” She turned her back on him, eager to gather up enough firewood to go back to camp. 

“Prove it.” When she didn’t respond, he goaded, “What, did you lose it?”

That must have hit a sore spot, because she whipped around and plunged her and into her pocket. For a moment he thought she was going for a dagger, but instead she pulled out a small, well-worn pouch. And then from the pouch she pulled out a small stone. Iolite. It almost seemed to glow. No, it was actually glowing. “See? I have it right here!”

And as if the gods themselves were laughing at him, his amulet started glowing in answer. The glow was reflected in her wide eyes. He could do nothing but watch as slowly, she touched her stone to his necklace. 

Then suddenly, the girl before him had wings. Wings bursting out from under her cloak, from slits that hadn’t made sense until now. Wings he had convinced himself he’d dreamed. The most beautiful wings he had ever seen, translucent wings shimmering in every color he’d ever known… and maybe a few he hadn’t. He longed to see them in full moonlight, to see them against a bright blue, cloudless sky -- to see them flying beside him. To see them carrying her to freedom. He tore his eyes away from them to see her staring at him with equally awed disbelief. He felt his own wings straining under his coat, and knew why.

“...Corn?” she whispered at last, doubting her eyes, barely allowing herself to hope.

All he could do was nod, shallowly. 

“CORN!” And then she was on top of him, arms around him, all of their firewood spilling onto the ground. “I-missed-you-so-much-what-are-you-doing-here-I’m-so-glad-you’re-okay-did-your-wings-grow-in-properly-can-I-see-them?”

All he could do was hug her in return, careful not to press on her wings. This was  _ his  _ Kyoko, beyond a shadow of a doubt. The little changeling who had cried because no glamour would hide her golden eyes. Whose birth parents traded her out for Saena’s, leaving her to be hated by the woman she called ‘mother.’ The changeling who had helped him bandage his shredded wings, who had been his first real friend. The girl who had grown up unloved, who must have realized how horrid her so-called prince truly was. The girl who had strength enough to leave without taking on a whole new identity. His arms tightened around her. “I missed you, too.”

“Corn,” she whimpered, curling into him. He could feel her shaking, and knew she was crying. He cradled her head in one hand, the other stroking her back. The moment his finger brushed her wings, she froze. 

“Kyoko?”

She shoved him away, her eyes wild. “No, no, no, no, no!” She spun in a circle, eyes over her shoulder, staring in horror at her wings. “No, they’re supposed to be hidden! I locked them away!” She shoved her stone back in its pouch and then into her pocket. “Hide, hide -- no, mother’s going to be furious!” She was shaking now, but not from the cold. “She’s going to bring out the iron! She said she’d cut them off if anyone saw them again!” 

His blood ran cold. Faeries may have adapted to iron over time, but changelings were an exception. Changelings couldn’t heal when cut by iron.  _ I am never letting that woman anywhere near her ever again. To hell with the mission. _ “Kyoko,” he said softly, doing his best to keep any anger out of his voice. “Wait a minute, please.”

“No, Corn, I can’t -- I have to hide them, she’s going to--!”

He took one of her flailing hands in his. “What if you didn’t have to go back there?”

“That’s the whole point of this damned marriage!” she yelled back, desperately trying to gather her magic. She needed to hide her wings before anyone else could see them. 

“No, I meant never again. Not even now.” He caught her other hand. “Forget the marriage, forget everything. You said you wanted to fly away. What if you did?”

“But….” She looked back at the camp, her wings giving a little flutter. “I don’t want to leave Moko or Chiori. And I -- I can’t fly, Corn.” A tear escaped. “I never learned how.”

“I can teach you.” He let go of one of her hands to wipe the tear off of her cheek. “I’m a little out of practice, but it’s not something you forget. We can fly together.”

“You will?” She looked at him as if he was offering her a lifeline -- which, he realized, he was. 

“Of course.” He recaptured her hand. “We can practice tonight, after everyone’s gone to bed. And then we can fly away. Bring your friends along, start a healing business. An apothecary. You three have the know-how, and I have the muscle to keep things safe and lug things around. When you can fly, you can visit the Takaradas or the inn more easily, more quickly. Whenever you want.”

She shook her head, not wanting to let herself believe it. “Why would you -- you don’t get anything out of this, Corn. Why would you be so wonderful to me?” 

“Because you were my first friend. And when the apothecary takes off, I can pay back my debt with honest work. If you’ll have me.” He swallowed. “And I’ve always wanted someone to fly with.” 

“Of course I would have you,” she whispered. 

“Then what do you say to it? The new plan?”  _ Forget the Fuwas, forget your so-called mother. Forget everything that keeps you out of the sky. And drag me up there with you. _

She nodded, the start of a smile on her mouth. “Can I see your wings?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged off his coat, letting them unfold. Green and gold stripes shimmered in the thin moonlight coming through the trees. 

Her eyes filled with tears again, but this time of joy. “They grew in properly, Corn. I’m… I’m so happy.” 

“Thank you.”  _ Right, I should tell her… _ . “Um, and my name. It’s actually Kuon.” He grinned when her wings turned as pink as her cheeks.

That night, Kyoko took to her wings like a fish to the water. She fell a few times, but he caught her. He loved how the moon looked when it shone behind her wings, its light refracting. The look on his face would have made Lory cry from joy, but Kyoko did not notice, too thrilled to be in the sky at last. 

It would take many months for either of them to realize. In that time, Kyoko made her apologies to Hikaru before leaving with Kuon (once again Ren except during their flights), Kanae, and Chiori. They did wind up going to the Fuwas, but only long enough for Kuon to collect his payment -- and Kyoko to turn Shotaro’s hair green with a short-term charm. The group then set off to found a very successful apothecary. In time, the two would realize (and fight, and accept) that they were in love. Kuon would pay off his debt, reconcile with his parents, and begin living as himself again. He would realize that when it was  _ her _ cooking, food had taste again. She would learn how to wield a sword, and he would learn how to mix medicines. And one day, they would live happily ever after.

**Fluffy end!**


	53. Chapter 53

Hikaru slumped over his lute case, hugging it to his chest in a chair as close to the fire as Ren could procure for him. Ren couldn’t do anything for Hikaru, but he could make sure at least one of them was functioning come morning time. He tossed his last coin to the waitress called Kimiko. “For him,” he said, “whatever it’ll get.” 

She pushed the small coin around in her palm, then pocketed it and nodded. “Anything for you, good sir.” 

Ren forced a perfect smile. His insides curdled slightly as he watched hope bloom in rosebud blushes on her cheeks. She was not his type and never would be, but if a bit of courtesy would get Hikaru a larger slice of bread, or a cut of meat, he’d do it. 

The entrance to the stairs was closed off, keeping the majority of the heat down in the common room to keep customers present and paying. Ren slowly undid the ties of his tunic, rubbing the spot where his sword belt put pressure. He pulled the shirt up and over the belt, sighing at the first sign of being able to relax. Ren wasn’t even going to bother with dinner or a bath tonight. Just sleep. 

Several rooms branched off the narrow, dimly lit hallway. A single lantern with one wax candle burned at the top of the stairs. Kimiko had indicated the first room was his, just off the landing. He wouldn’t sleep deeply here with the foot traffic, but it had the benefit of a fast escape route. Ren turned the doorknob and walked in. 

It was occupied. A man lay sprawled back on the bed, a woman in a dress a shade of pink that had to be made with magic kneeling over him. She held a silver tankard in one hand, about to drizzle the contents into the man’s waiting mouth. Ren threw his cloak over the wooden stool in the corner of the room. “Get out,” he said. 

The man jerked upright. The drink sloshed, spilling on the woman’s voluminous skirts. She reacted smoothly, her free hand resting gently on the man’s shoulder, the other setting the tankard on a table next to the bed. Ren’s bed. Only then did she stand and reach for a towel draped over Ren’s washbasin, blotting at the silky fabric of her skirt. 

“I’m a paying customer,” the man started. 

Ren snarled at him, ripping the tunic off over his head to bare muscle and steel. The man scrambled off the bed, his hands raised in supplication. “Your room, your room,” he said, ducking into the hallway, his shirt tail flapping over his beltless pants. 

Her arms crossed, the woman stared him down. Her eyes shone golden in the light from the hall’s lantern. Ren stepped toward her, blocking the light. Her eyes were still a shocking gold. Ren blinked.  _ Fair Kyoko of the golden eyes.  _

A laugh burst from his lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should try to hire Kyoko, turn to [Chapter 68](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677219). If Ren should ignore her presence and go to sleep, go to [Chapter 77](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677771).


	54. Chapter 54

The next day was crisp and clear, a winter day asking for forgiveness for its indiscretions the night before. Ren trusted winter no more than he trusted Hikaru’s bride. Both beautiful. Both thieves. He walked beside the open carriage Kanae Kotonami had procured from Okami and Taisho, probably using the coins they’d stolen from him. Hikaru perched in the back, leaning against a pile of rucksacks filled with the traveler’s belongings. Kyoko and her companions sat at the back, delicate boots peeking out from beneath their shockingly pink skirts, kicking with each bump Kijima hit. 

Shinichi and Yuusei wandered the woods to either side, watching for danger. Ren was ready to either switch with one or stab himself. Hikaru and Chiori had not stopped discussing plans for the wedding since breakfast. A single sip of his morning pint was all he’d gotten in peace, then Kanae had dropped the line, “Wouldn’t Kyoko’s hair be lovely with daisies threaded through?”

That was all the bard needed. Poetical nonsense and plans more befitting a fairy princess or a millionaire’s daughter than the thief perched on the back of a hay cart poured forth. She’d wear a dress with wings made of crystal. Walk on a carpet of snow--no, of white rose petals. Mirrors, full-length, placed so that the sun would shimmer around her, making a silhouette when she first entered. Kyoko had the grace to blush and look abashed, but he could see it in her eyes. A shining to them. She loved every single second of the nonsense. 

Ren would never be married. He gripped the medallion hanging around his neck, warm inside his palm, the spell constantly working to bend the light that hit him into the patterns Takarada had set. All to take care of one woman that thought he was a murderer and wouldn’t let him near her. He could never afford a wife, even if there was one that could want him after what he’d done--and what he’d been doing ever since then. 

Blood for blood. Ren shrugged his cloak around him, holding it tightly closed even though the chill came from inside, from the magic leeching his life force slowly, and not the gentle winter wind. With this mission from the Fuwas he’d have enough saved--provided Kyoko didn’t steal more of it, he thought with a sidelong glare--to provide for Tina until she was old. And all he had to do was find a way to prevent a wedding between a thief and a bard from happening. 

Kijima pulled up on the reins, turning the mule toward the edge of the path. The women hopped off as the wagon dipped into the ditch slightly, just enough to clear the road. “Lunchtime,” Kijima called. Kanae and Chiori started unpacking supplies, Hikaru hovering around them, wanting details on Chiori’s thoughts on a monastery choir for dinner music. Kyoko cinched her skirts up and headed into the woods, bending every few steps to pick up a small stick for kindling. 

_ Iolite _ , she’d said. And Hikaru had met her at a party of Takarada’s. He watched her balancing the sticks on her hip with eyes slowly narrowing. She knew something about his past, he was certain of it. He didn’t want this job to get any messier than it already had. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should go and ask Kyoko how she knows about his medallion, turn to [Chapter 55](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/69520464). If Ren should stop being a suspicious ninny and head over to the group near the fire instead, turn to [Chapter 56](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/69520530). 


	55. Chapter 55

Ren broke a branch off a dying tree when he was several paces behind her. The snap brought her head around, her shocking eyes locking with his for a brief second before shifting to the wood in his hands. “There is plenty on the ground,” she said, “no need to massacre nature in addition to man.”

Ren crossed his arms, walking beside her, his single stick held to his side like a switch. “I am no mass murderer.” 

She just smiled and began to hum. It was a simple melody, a series of ups and downs that made the notes sound like a babbling brook. He knew it, somehow. “Where are you from?” 

She bent to pick up another stick, adding it to her growing pile. “Does it matter?” 

Ren echoed her movement, grabbing a log and hefting it up onto his shoulder. He studied her. “You know me.” It was no question. 

She finally paused in her work, the kindling piece hovering over her pile for a moment before she turned to face him. “I do not, sir.” Her frown puckered at the edges of her lips. 

“You know my necklace, though.”

“No,” she said, the frown shifting to a satisfied smirk. She liked meddling with his answers. He would get nothing out of this thief she didn’t want to give, but found himself waiting for her reply anyways. The log bit into his shoulder. He refused to shift its weight. “I know the stone. It is a common one for incantations.” Her eyes glowed with interest as they shifted down to study the iolite trapped in the center of his necklace. “And I know the runes. They are Takarada’s work.” 

She looked as though she wished to touch it. Her hands were full of sticks. He thought about taking them from her, freeing her hands, to feel what her delicate fingers felt like as they brushed against his tunic. He shifted the log to his other shoulder. 

“What is the spell?” she said. “It glows--constantly. I know you’re using it.” 

Ren studied her. He could not trust her with his purse. He would be a fool to trust her with his secrets. He stayed silent long enough that she started to hum again, bending once more to pick up several pieces of kindling. She wandered away, deeper into the forest. 

“It’s a disguise spell,” Ren said. The words stopped her. She turned back to him, her eyes looking at him. They were alone, out here, no plans, no theatrics, just a mercenary and a thief. 

She smiled brilliantly, her palm tapping against the pile of kindling like she was trying to applaud. Then she was by his side, looking up at him. “What did you do?” she said, bouncing on her heels like a puppy. “Did you rob the king? Or a minor lordling? No, look at you--it was definitely the king. Which widow did you give the funds to?” Ren stepped back, confused. “No?” she said, continuing, her eyes wide with delight. “Not a criminal? A-- I know! A prince from another land.” Kyoko gasped, her hand covering her mouth, the kindling dropping at her feet. Ren gripped his log more securely, his back against a tree, his eyes fixed on hers in wonderment at her transformation. She looked like a child on Christmas morning, joy suffusing her entire being. 

“A fairy land,” she whispered between her fingers. 

Ren dropped the long, barely missing his foot. In that moment, he knew who she was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should tell Kyoko the truth about himself, turn to [Chapter 52](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/69520275). If Ren should lie, turn to [Chapter 58](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70673487). 


	56. Chapter 56

The snow-covered bushes began to obscure Kyoko’s form. She continued to wander, deeper into the forest and farther from him. Ren let her go. He sat on a log by the others, scraping dirt bare for the fire with his boot. 

“I do not have a ring finished yet,” Hikaru said, his agitation evident. He peered into the forest, and, upon not seeing Kyoko, continued. “Though I have been working on it. Would you… like to see?” 

Chiori squealed, clapping her hands together. Kanae was already busy chopping mushrooms Shinichi had gathered on his walk for their stew. Hikaru opened his lute’s case, running his fingers lovingly over the instrument’s wood inlay before reaching down into a velvety pocket built into the case’s curved edge. He pulled out a small wooden ring, the same one he had bent over night after night on their travels, painstakingly transforming a birch branch into a perfect ring. A knot in the center crowned the carved circle like a gemstone. 

Ren worked at the laces of his leather gauntlet.  _ Keep her from marrying the bard _ , Yaoyi Fuwa had said, her son sprawled over purple and red cushions on their dining room floor. He dropped grapes one by one into his own mouth. When the bowl emptied, he rapped it on the table. Yaoyi reached behind her and cleared it, standing to head to the kitchens to refill the fruit. 

_ She’s mine _ , Sho Fuwa said, watching his fingers open and close. A mandolin lay across his stomach, juice from his fingers dulling the once-bright strings. He turned to look at Ren.  _ And she will stay that way.  _

Kyoko reappeared from the forest, her arms full of kindling. She dropped it near the space he’d cleared, carefully dusting any stray bark from her traveling cloak. Her cheeks were flushed with the work, bright and rosy to match her dress. She tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear. Hikaru hid the ring in his pocket, standing, a smile on his face. He put his hand on her elbow and gently guided her over to a sloping rock. They sat, resting together. She laughed. Her eyes flicked to Ren. Hikaru shifted the ring from his pocket to his palm. 

Kanae’s bright skirts and black cloak blocked Ren’s view of the pair. “A word, mercenary?” she said, her voice cold. 

Ren stood, letting his action be his answer. She led him away, his back to the pair. He could hear the excitement in Kyoko’s voice even if he couldn’t make out the words. 

Kanae did not lead him far. They stopped beside the mule, her palm on his haunches. “How do you know Hikaru?” 

Ren was silent for a moment. “He hired me,” he said, keeping it simple. “The woods are dangerous.” 

Kanae ran her hand down the mule’s back. “And he knew you were a mercenary? How?” 

“I do not see the point of these questions. Are you concerned I am not able to protect your group? Or is this a technique to challenge my asking rate.” 

She looked at him then, her gaze full of challenge. “I know you know the mage Takarada. I know you are hiding… many things.” She stepped forward, standing between him and the camp. “I will not allow you to come between her and happiness.” 

Ren’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you think--”

Kanae pointed at his medallion. “No honest man wears a disguising spell so openly.” Ren’s mouth fell open. “The dark green,” she continued, “I know it well. I’ve used iolite to hide from my own family members many times. I don’t know what else Takarada packed into that stone for you, but I know you are here just because a bard too poor to pay for his own room hired you.” 

Kyoko laughed, the sound joining with Hikaru’s and a third, probably Chiori. She was free, here. “I have another… benefactor. Interested in ensuring the wedding doesn’t happen.” 

Kanae’s eyes blazed with anger. “If you so much as touch her--”

Ren raised his hands. “I am a man of honor, Kotonami. There are many ways to sabotage a wedding as rushed at this without bloodshed.” 

Her jaw tight and feet spread wide, Kanae filled her words with warning. “You will leave. You will leave now. She is happy, and if you are any kind of a friend to that bard you’d see that he’s happy too.”

“I have a contract.”

Kanae spat on the ground between them. She glared at him. “You will leave.” 

Ren’s eyes flicked up to Kyoko, holding her hand in the air, gazing at something small and dull encircling her left hand. “If I leave, I cannot protect them.” 

“Then I will,” Kanae said. “For free. And she’ll marry whoever she damn well pleases.” 

Ren nodded. He bowed. “As you wish,” he said. He turned to walk away, his mind churning with doubt. 

Kanae called his name once. He looked over his shoulder; she tossed a bag of coin at him. “Your fee,” she said, then she was leaving, going back to the group, her mouth already full of bright words and rejoicing at the ring Kyoko wore on her finger. 

The bag hung heavy in his hands. Ren walked to the back of the cart, reaching in and pulling out the rucksack with Kyoko’s initials embroidered in careful brown stitches near the leather ties. He tugged it open and buried the bag down inside, then pulled the ties shut and shoved it back among the others. Pulling up the hood of his cape, Ren disappeared back into the forest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we have come to an end. It is but one of many, and though more bright than some it may leave you yearning. Turn back and chase the adventure again. If only life worked the same way. 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, you have found a hidden author! This chapter & its strings authored by the valiant ncisduckie, the one who taught me POV rules and whiplashed my writing into shape! All the love for duckie magic! Enjoy!

“What the hell are you doing?” Ren called to Kijima’s retreating figure. The storm threatened to swallow his words but he was loud enough to stop the vampire in his tracks. 

Kijima turned with a snarl on his lips. “You heard Hikaru; he is in no need of the company of murderers.”

Ren rolled his eyes. He’d thought they’d left that conversation in the snow along with Hikaru’s brother’s. And now the vampire was getting mopey over a simple kil? He wasn’t getting paid enough for this. “He’ll get over it.”

“We killed his brothers.”

“They almost killed us.”

“I’m not sorry for killing them. I enjoyed the feel of the kill; I would do it over in a heartbeat.” He hesitated. “If I still had one.”

Ren sympathized with him, he really did. The first time Ren had killed for money—he cried for the whole day. He never wanted to be a mercenary; but that’s how life turned out. Now it was cold and the two of them had better things to do than reminisce about their first kills.“You’ll get used to it.”

“And if I don’t want to?”

“For the love of—” Ren ran a hand through his hair and spun on his heel. He didn’t have the energy for this. “Fine. Keep brooding. When you’re done, the rest of us will be inside where it’s warm.”

“Prick.”

Ren rolled his eyes but didn’t dignify Kijima’s retort with a reaction. He pushed his way back into the warmth of the inn. He looked to the fireplace for Hikaru. The man in question was currently nursing a bowl of the promised stew, turned away from the door. Ren could take a hint.

Kimiko, however, could not. At the sight of the mercenary, she brightened and crossed the room to latch herself to Ren’s arm. “Let me escort you to your room, sir,” she purred. “I can think of a few ways to get you warmed from tonight’s storm.” 

“No thank you,” he said, wriggling free of her grasp. He plucked the key from her hand. “I can find my own way.”

She pouted. “But—”

He shot her a withering glare. “I will return for dinner as soon as I’m settled.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ren was barely halfway to his room when a silky voice called out to him with the sound of approaching footsteps. “How about some companionship, handsome?” a woman’s voice asked.

He grunted, visualizing the clingy waitress. What impression did he give the girl that made her think he wanted anything but a place to sleep? It’s not like he was Kijima, exuding sexual energy everywhere he went. “I said I didn’t need—"

“For a few coins, I can make that frown disappear.” The woman drew closer and reached her hand out to draw it across Ren’s back. “A few extra, and my friends can join us.”

Ren spun around, catching the stranger’s hand and pulling her back against his chest. His free hand pulled the dagger from his hip and pressed the blade to the woman’s throat. He dipped his lips to her ear. “You shouldn’t sneak up on men with sharp knives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we have reached a crossroads. If Kyoko should resist Ren, turn to [Chapter 92](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70686537). If Kyoko should apologize, turn to [Chapter 93](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70686624).


	58. Chapter 58

Ren recovered quickly, covering his shock of recognizing the girl from his youth with a smile. He felt the edge the smile had, one that came from fear of exposing himself--and his failure--to her curled deeply in his stomach. He fed it, darkening and twisting the look on his face. “A fairy prince?” he asked, stepping over the log so that he loomed over her, casting her face in shadow. “Is that really what you believe?” 

Kyoko stepped back once, then caught herself and planted her feet. Her eyes had shifted, losing some of the force of their joy as she watched him. 

“You were closer to the mark with your first guesses, woman,” Ren said. He reached down, his hand close enough to her face that she flinched. Ren pulled the kindling from her hands and bundled it under his arm. “Do not tell anyone,” he said quietly, his voice hard. 

Kyoko nodded curtly, like a squirrel cornered by a wolf. 

“What’s this? What’s this?” Kijima strolled over, rolling the fallen log beneath his foot. “A tete-a-tete with an engaged woman?” He clucked his tongue, but his eyes were merry as they danced over Ren and Kyoko. Kyoko had the grace to blush, an expression that looked more like her as a child than the thief she’d become. 

Ren saw her glance at Kijima and back at him. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, weighing them both. Then her expression shifted and it was Ren’s turn to wonder about her story. She looked capable of black magic. He refused to step back despite the heat of her gaze. 

“Just getting acquainted with the hired help,” she said, dipping her head at Kijima and giving Ren a glare before heading back to the camp. 

Kijima bent down, picked up the log, and dropped it on top of the kindling Ren already held. “A rupee for your thoughts?” he said, watching Kyoko walk away. 

Ren said nothing, just shifted the weight of the wood and followed after her. 

The meal was ready shortly thereafter, a simple soup with broth made from the mushrooms and roadside herbs. Ren sipped it from the bowl, listening to Kijima talk. Across the campfire Kyoko was smiling and laughing, her eyes bright with wonder as she listened to a story Kanae was telling about her family. Her hand lay on the log next to the other girl’s, her torso leaning toward Kanae, twisted so she was nearly sideways to the fire. 

She was a chimera, shifting her personality to meet the needs of the moment. Ren wondered which was genuine. If any of them were genuine anymore. He wondered what it felt like to make eye contact with her when she looked like that. 

“...nearly lost my lunch at the sight. Have you ever seen one, Ren?” Kijima said. 

Ren shook his head. 

“You can’t be serious! How many years have you served as a mercenary and you haven’t seen a tentekomai?” 

Ren blinked at his soup, cursing himself silently for not paying attention. Kyoko was looking at him now. 

“I’m not certain,” Ren said.

Kijima whooped with laughter. “Not certain how long he’s served! It must be nice to live life so carefree.”

Kanae’s voice was sharp. “That can’t be true. Surely you know how old you were when you took your first job.”

Ren shrugged, trying to find a way out of the scrutiny. “Time passes quickly. It has been long enough.” Kanae looked dissatisfied. He could almost hear her beginning to complain about not getting references before they hired him and paid money for someone without discernible experience. But Kyoko had turned away again, already ignoring him, drawing Chiori now into conversation. Hikaru sat on the ground near her feet, leaning back against her skirt. Her hair shone in the firelight, shorter than he’d ever seen a girl’s hair. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked. 

“--with me.” Kijima said. 

“What?” asked Ren.

“To piss. I must piss. I don’t want to die, or be attacked by a vampire.” Kijima stretched. 

Ren grunted and swirled a hunk of dry bread around the bottom of his bowl, cleaning it. He tossed it at the pile of cooking supplies. “There are no vampires here,” Ren said. “Piss on your own.” 

The women were all frowning at him now. Kijima leaned down and whispered in his ear. “I was just trying to save you from yourself.” Ren glared up at him. Kijima put his hand over his heart. “She is indeed beautiful--but it is beneath even a mercenary’s reputation to lust so openly after another man’s bride.” He winked then, and sauntered off into the trees, leaving Ren to wish he had his spoon still to dig a hole to bury himself with. 

“I would like a word,” Kanae said from the opposite side of the fire. “Since you apparently do not need to  _ piss _ .” She put emphasis on the last word, making sure he knew she’d been listening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should go with Kanae, turn to [Chapter 59](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70673526). If Ren should refuse and stay at the campfire, turn to [Chapter 60](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70673940).


	59. Chapter 59

Ren stood and followed Kanae. She led him to the edge of the clearing, just beyond ear shot but still in clear sight of the others. Kyoko watched them until he made it clear he noticed. She turned away then, back to Hikaru and Chiori. 

“I do not pry into other people’s lives without purpose,” Kanae said, her tone crisp. “But I hired you on the understanding that you were experienced.”

Ren folding his arms over his chest. Physically, he was looking down on her. It seemed more like staging for a fistfight, though. “You can trust my competency,” he said.

Kanae’s eyes narrowed. She crossed her own arms, mirroring his stance. “We do not need some lackey to chase away a wolf. I need to know you are able to kill.” 

The forest was quiet after her words. Then laughter burst from around the fireplace. Ren did not look back; he studied Kanae’s impassive face. He let his hands fall. “Who?”

Kanae’s expression did not change. She showed no uncertainty. “Kyoko’s mother.” 

Ren cut off a laugh of disbelief. “Aren’t you her friend?”

“Exactly.” Kanae shifted then, pushing her dark hair behind her ears, her eyes glancing beyond Ren to the group at the fire. “Her mother is Saena, the Snow Queen.” 

Ren did laugh then. His laughter cut short that flowing around the fire. He felt the weight of their gazes on his back. “You can’t be serious.” 

Kanae merely nodded. “You are under contract,” she said. “Will you stay?” 

He heard Kyoko calling to Kanae from the fire, asking her friend to rejoin them and help pack up the supplies. 

“She will never be free until the Queen is dead,” Kanae said. She waved one hand at her friend, her eyes not leaving Ren’s. “Will you fight?” she asked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should stay and fight the Snow Queen with Kanae, turn to [Chapter 61](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70674024). If Ren should leave, turn to [Chapter 62](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70674069).


	60. Chapter 60

Ren picked up a stick and poked at the fire, scattering embers in the air. “What you wish to say can be said here,” he said, not trusting himself alone with the woman. She looked ready to knife him, and he’d prefer to avoid slicing the throat of a lady. 

“I insist,” Kanae said. Her arms jutted out from her sides, hands on hips and looking every inch an immovable titan. 

Ren scanned her. She could be hiding a sizeable knife in any number of the lacy folds on her bodice. He stood, shedding his cape to make it easier to disarm her without dismembering her. “My lady,” he said, his voice gruff. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, did you really think Ren could refuse Kanae something? The woman is the definition of indomitable. Turn to [Chapter 59](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70673526).


	61. Chapter 61

The noise of laughter at the fire, the beginnings of a song falling from Hikaru’s lips, Kijima’s baritone underscoring it. Kanae looking up at him, daring him to leave them all to find the Snow Queen on their own. He knew she would do it. Less than twenty four hours in her presence and already the steel that made up her core was painfully obvious.

“Do you have a plan?” he said, his voice gruff with poorly concealed irritation. He felt deceived, twice over. Purse stolen and used to hire him--for a mission that offered little reward and great difficulty. 

Kanae’s smile was quick, a moment’s brightness then away. “You,” she said, tapping the medallion on his chest. “And Takarada’s magic.” 

Ren’s eyes tightened with his disapproval. “This medallion doesn’t contain battle magic.”

“Who said I was talking about an offensive move?” Kanae threw the words between them then walked past him, regal as the queen they were setting out to destroy. 

Ren gripped his sword hilt, staring out at the empty forest. He could walk forward and away, losing only his sleeping tent and saving his skin. She was no longer the girl he had found by the creekside. Back then, she’d held his heart in her smile. He’d lived off that smile for years now, the hope of once more being someone somebody believed in packed deep inside. 

He was not sure he was interested in being smile bait for a thief and a whore. 

He looked back at the campsite. Kyoko sat next to Chiori, working on some small doll made of straw and spare bits of cloth. She was bent forward over her work, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth. Ren closed his eyes, knowing as he watched her that he believed neither of those things about her. She was too innocent and too infuriating. Kijima waved at him, unpacking their tents. “The next waystation inn is too far,” he shouted, gesturing back at the road with the pack he held. “Learned that lesson. We stay here tonight.” 

Hikaru sprawled on the ground next to the fire, looking up at Kyoko and playing a new chord pattern on his lute. Kanae caught Ren’s gaze and rolled her eyes. A smirk threatened the edge of Ren’s lips; he killed it. His bag was under Hikaru’s. Ren grabbed both, throwing one at the bard, cutting off a particularly virulent trill with an  _ oof _ of expelled air. 

“Time to work,” Ren said. 

Hikaru made a dramatic show of getting up, but Kyoko was already off, helping Chiori set the end poles for their tent in the ground. Kanae laid a carpet roll on the ground near their tent, ready to unroll inside. Kijima had his and Hikaru’s up already, barely tall enough to sit in. He sat neither carpet nor cot inside, just a thick woolen blanket and a clay bottle of mead. Ren untied his tent, heading for a low hanging branch to use at the center pole. It would elevate it enough for his height so he could dress without obscuring his vision in the tent’s folds. The threads holding the thick, rain-resistant wool tied were almost chewed through. Ren unfurled it slowly. A rat had gotten into the wagon and chewed a large hole in the center of his tent. Droppings covered it, suggesting it had quite enjoyed itself in the process. Ren grimaced. 

Kijima barked a laugh at Ren’s misfortune. “You are welcome to join the brethren,” he said. “Our tent may be tight, but ah,” he sighed lewdly, “the tighter the better.” 

Ren’s lip curled. Kanae scowled at Kijima, ducking inside the spacious tent the girls had constructed as if she couldn’t get away from his words fast enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should sleep with Kijima and Hikaru, turn to [Chapter 63](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70674165). If he should ask the girls to make room, turn to [Chapter 64](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70674216).


	62. Chapter 62

Ren forced a sneer to his face. The women were beautiful, but he was not about to risk his life to kill some upstart thief’s mother. “My contract is for escort service, not assassination.” He turned on his heel and walked away from her, grabbing Hikaru’s shirt and hauling him to the other side of the wagon.

“You didn’t tell me you were engaged to the  _ Snow Queen _ ’s daughter,” Ren said, his voice a harsh whisper. 

Hikaru squirmed under where Ren pinned him against the wagon. “What? Are you insane? The Snow Queen is an ice mage! Kyoko isn’t--” His eyes widened then, realizing what his fiance’s golden eyes could mean. “Isn’t--” 

“Is.” Ren said, dropping Hikaru. “And we are done. Get your things.” 

Chiori appeared then, holding out a canteen. “What’s this about packing up?” she asked. She offered the canteen to Hikaru. 

He took a swig. “Oh, gin!” he said, taking another swig. He held the canteen to Ren. Chiori nodded, letting him take a sip. 

Ren chugged it, the evergreen taste sharp in his mouth. “We’re leaving,” he said. “Sorry to break contract.” 

Chiori’s wicked grin as she took the canteen back was his first sign something was wrong. His second was when his vision seized, like something was gripping his brain and twisting.

“No apologies needed,” Chiori said. Hikaru hit the ground, his body twisting. Ren reached for her. His legs gave out. His chest spasmed. Everything--hurt. He was dying. “We broke the contract first,” Chiori said, beaming down at him as his vision faded to black. 

“You should’ve said yes,” she said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at an end. Perhaps take Chiori’s advice and do as Kanae says. ;-) THE END. 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	63. Chapter 63

Kijima to his left; Hikaru to his right. Ren stared up at a tent ceiling less than six inches away from his nose. He could see it rippling with Kijima’s snores, could feel it dip and nearly graze his skin every time Hikaru rolled over, pressing into the side of the tent. Hikaru whistled in his sleep, because of course he did. He couldn’t help but make music; even his flatulence demanded the key of G. Ren’s sigh came from deep in his gut and transformed itself into a groan before it was done. He wriggled out of the tight space in between the two men and crawled through the opening slit.

Fresh, cold air and stars welcomed him. He reached back inside and grabbed his bedroll. This was a much better idea, rumors of werewolves be damned. Ren stoked the fire just in case, adding another log to its coals. 

“Trouble sleeping?” A soft voice. Hers. Her muslin sleeping gown whispered softly as she moved closer, her traveling cloak held tight around her figure. 

Ren merely nodded. The last thing he wanted was for one of the others to awake and ruin whatever this was. He glanced at Kyoko, watching as she stood far enough away from him to make sure he knew there was nothing between them to ruin. 

“Planning to rob me again?” Ren asked, his voice just above a rough whisper. 

Kyoko stepped forward. “What did you say?” she asked. 

Ren waved her to come closer, leaning back over the log to look up at her. Her pale skin caught the moonlight, glowing as brightly in the night as her eyes did during the day. “Thief,” he said in answer to her question. 

She threw a frown down at him. It twisted the edges of her lips; she sank with it. Lower than he expected--much lower. Suddenly she was on the ground in front of him, her nightgown smudging with dirt and snow. “Kyoko--” he began, but she cut him off. 

“Please forgive me,” she said, her face averted. “I am on assignment. I am--” she paused, the declaration hanging in the air until she raised her eyes. She looked at him and then away again, back toward the ground. “--I am on assignment. I am supposed to learn to love but the people are so hard to love, and so demanding, that I end up stealing from them just to get enough to prove I’ve accomplished something.” Her speech ran quickly, she pushed herself up. “You were the only one I actually robbed. You were so--so--” her hand balled in a tiny fist “--arrogant! I wanted to show you I was as good as you!” 

“But the man,” Ren began. 

Kyoko shuffled forward on her knees, the movement enough to stall his question. “He was just a customer. I do herbal therapy. He fell asleep; he hadn’t paid. The tea was medicinal. It worked too quickly.” 

“You were on his  _ lap _ .” 

Kyoko blinked up at him. Her eyes fell to Ren’s lap, studying it. “Yes?” she said. 

Ren was thankful for the darkness that hid the blush likely lacing his own cheeks. His hands felt awkward on his knees; he sat up, drawing them toward his hips. That was worse, much worse. She had watched their movement. “His lap,” he reiterated. 

Her head cocked. She held her thumb up, straight up and down, then tilted it sideways. She stood, stepping back from him, squinting past her own finger. Ren’s mouth threatened to fall open. “What are you doing?”

“I believe the same dosage would work for you,” Kyoko said, hurrying off to the wagon. She opened a chest and pulled out several vials, dripping a few drops of one, a drizzle of another, and one careful drop of something black and vile looking into a tin mug. She swirled it, blowing over the surface as she walked back to him. Then she was sinking toward his lap, her nightgown hitching up her leg as she lifted it to cross his. 

“What are you doing!” Ren said, his voice hoarse with the effort to not shout. Her hand on his shoulder restrained him. 

“Medicine,” she said. 

“This--this is what you should not do,” Ren said. “I cannot believe you have gotten this far without being…” he trailed off, unwilling to say the word to someone as innocent as the vixen standing in front of him, blowing gently on a mug of herbs. Or poison. It could just as easily be poison, and if he were a man, any other man, in any other place, he would have drank it willingly from her hands even knowing he was about to die. 

Kyoko frowned down into the mug. Ren held his hand out. “I will drink it,” he said. “But on one condition. You must never sit on another man’s lap again.” 

Kyoko shook her head. “It is an expedient method for dosing,” she said. “The patients are always calm.” 

“It is indecent. You have other ways. Leather straps, if he is unwilling.” Ren blushed again. “To a chair. Or just don’t dose someone that doesn’t want the medicine.” He licked his lips, the cup growing cold in his hand, the magic of the disguise spell creeping from his skin into its metal. He should tell her why, should tell her the truth, but a part of him didn’t want her to have any further education on a subject that could open her to a certain minstrel’s ministrations. He shoved that part back down to his subconscious, unwilling to grapple with the implications for his own attitude toward her. “Who taught you to administer medicine this way?”

Kyoko scowled, her face twisting with displeasure. “Shotaro,” she said, spitting out the name. 

Ren’s jaw hardened. He sat the cup aside, leaning into the attitude with which she said Fuwa Sho’s name. He remembered the man, leaning back indulgently while his mother served him, demanding Ren bring  _ his property _ back.  _ I will pay you well, _ he’d said,  _ for that girl’s return.  _

“Shotaro is a liar,” Ren said, not bothering to hide his distaste. “You should only do that for someone you love. Doing it many times cheapens it when it’s meant to be a moment of peace for when your lover is sick.” She was watching him closely. He softened his words, wondering at himself that he was so quick to tell her what to do. “A rule of the heart, so to speak.”

Her nod was small, thoughtful. Ren felt guilt and satisfaction pool in a liquid embrace in his chest. Then she looked at the full cup, her lips pouting. She pointed. “You should take it. You will sleep, even in those conditions.” 

“Will you sleep as well?” Ren asked, unable to stop the tenderness leaking into the words. 

She looked away. She looked away, not watching as he drank the medicine, nor as he wiped a drop off his lip. She looked away as she passed him, but when she neared his shoulder he heard a single word. “Yes.”

The next morning Ren pulled lot to be the driver. While the others dismantled camp, he curried their mule carefully, checking for brambles or twigs from the night’s grazing that would risk sores beneath the harness’s rub. He listened to the sounds of packing, looked for tiny flecks of brown in the mule’s hide, and thought of the way Hikaru’s bride’s brow puckered when she grew thoughtful. 

Then it was time to leave, the camp rolled and tucked and folded away into the back of their cart. Kijima and Hikaru walked the forest paths as scouts; Shinichi and Yuusei lifted Kanae and Chiori into the back of the cart. Kyoko fiddled with her medicines, her gaze wandering across the forest and settling on him. In the daylight her eyes were the most striking part of her face. Ren could watch them all day. He wondered what they would talk about if she sat next to him. She would sit by Kanae, though, or walk with Hikaru. 

Kyoko bit her lip, then walked to the front of the cart. Ren hands tensed around the reins, then relaxed into the adrenaline. She was coming. He would ask her to ride beside him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 67](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677081).


	64. Chapter 64

Ren rolled his ruined tent back up, tied it tightly, and threw it back in the cart. He could patch it at the next town, or barter for food with the remnants. It was only useless as a shelter, not trash. He glanced again at Kanae. His hand wanted to scratch the exposed skin at the back of his neck. He crossed both across his chest instead. 

She laughed. “If you think you’re getting an invitation in here as well, you can think again, mercenary.” 

Chiori snickered, fluffing a pillow as she ducked inside their tent. Only Kyoko looked at him for a moment’s pity. It too quickly turned to mirth, one hand covering her mouth, hiding the blush that threatened her cheeks. 

So she blushed when she thought of sharing a bed with him, did she? 

Ren shrugged and joined Kijima outside his tent. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, did you really think this was that easy? After all of this? I seriously considered having him murdered by a werewolf this chapter. Kicked out by Kanae-- well, here, this is from my author’s notes as I wrote: "Kanae-- she laughs at Ren. he sleeps under the stars and gets murdered by a werewolf." 
> 
> Please turn to Chapter 63 and have him sleep with the boys. After all, tonight There Is Only One Bed.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	65. Chapter 65

Ren was familiar with swords, but a chef’s knife was a different matter. He smiled at Taisho and wrapped his around the hilt of a knife sitting on a cutting board in front of him. 

Taisho’s frown deepened. The front of his cleaver sliced toward Ren’s face, stirring Ren’s bangs with its passage. “Put that down.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he thought of Hikaru and their bill. He sat the knife down but refused to take a step back, placing his palm down on the counter instead. He was here to help. Taisho ignored him, resuming chopping vegetables with even more violent speed than before. 

Ren cast about the kitchen for a job the man would let him do. The sink was stacked with dishes. Ren rolled the sleeves of his tunic up and walked over, looking about for a rag to wash them with. A red one was hooked over a nail on the wall. Ren grabbed it and dunked it under hot, soapy water. 

Taisho jerked on Ren’s shoulder, hand cleaverless but eyes fiery with frustration. “Red for wiping grease. White hands. Black dish rag.” He held up the dripping red rag and scowled, wringing it out over the sink. “Leave,” he said.

“The innkeeper—“

“Leave. Now. Meal comped.” 

Ren frowned in distaste at being labeled an unhelpful charity case. But the man’s cleaver was sharp enough to cut through bone, and he had walked back over to it, thunking it into the wooden cutting board over and over. Ren shoved open the kitchen door, grabbed his cloak from the chair beside sleeping Hikaru, and went outside to calm down. 

The icy wind stole Ren’s breath but not his anger. Things were falling apart more quickly than he’d imagined possible, but not the right things. A thousand Fuwa coins to break up Hikaru and Kyoko’s wedding, but that was the only thing still on. He paced on the inn’s stoop, glaring out at the storm. Only twenty coins promised by Hikaru for their safe transit. With what happened, he couldn’t force himself to ask for that. Even room and board payment was a crime. “I should be the one paying him,” Ren said, his fists tight on the rugged wood banister. 

“Get kicked out?” Kijima’s voice was slurred and thick. He sounded drunk. Ren turned toward his voice, his figure lost in the darkness just beyond the porch light’s glow. 

“Something like that,” Ren said, walking down the steps toward his friend. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, his feet spread out evenly, ready to react if needed. 

Kijima’s laugh rolled through the dark like thunder in a snowstorm. His next words were a whisper in Ren’s ear, his touch a press of cold, tacky fingers to the back of Ren’s fist around his sword’s hilt. “You should be afraid.” 

Ren’s jaw twitched. He leaned away from Kijima but didn’t move. He could feel his friend’s breath on his neck, cold as winter. “So should you,” he said. 

Kijima stepped back. When Ren faced him, he was turned around, staring at the inn’s brightly lit windows. Laughter but no music filtered through frosted panes, dark shapes swaying gently in conversation and eating. 

“I am,” Kijima said. 

Ren waited. Kijima turned to look at him. A grimace twisted his face, trying to be a smile but snagged on the unfamiliar presence of fangs. His lips were stained dark red, tracks of blood running down his chin, pooling in the dent of his collarbone. His eyes were the worst. Terror and defeat warred for dominance behind the glassy sheen, burying the teasing laughter of the day before. 

He took a step toward Ren. Ren pulled his sword out an inch, baring steel. “Who did you kill?” Ren said.

Kijima’s laugh was ragged. “Myself,” he said. “I’m dead.” He stepped forward again, his hand reaching out. 

“Who’s blood?” Ren pushed, his gaze flicking back toward the inn. 

“Make it happen,” Kijima said, ignoring Ren’s question. He wrapped his hand back over Ren’s tugging, exposing more steel. “End this.” 

Ren grappled with Kijima’s hand, trying to force it off the sword. It was like wrestling with a glacier. Kijima stared at him, his face backlit by the inn’s light, turning his eyes into deep pools of shadow. “I don’t know who it was.” He pulled Ren’s hand off the sword like it was a child’s rubbing Ren’s fingers over his lips and smearing his fingertips with blood. “A man. Standing at the crossroads. He was alone, reading the mile signs. A pack on his back.” Kijima dropped a leather satchel at Ren’s feet. “Kill me, Ren.” He grabbed Ren’s collar and pulled him close, close enough Ren could feel the fangs scrape against his cheek as Kijima’s lips pressed against his ear. The whispered word was harsh, needy. “Please.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should kill Kijima, turn to [Chapter 87](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70685961). If Ren should run away with Kijima and try to protect him from himself, turn to [Chapter 88](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70686069). If Ren should drag Kijima into the inn and get him so blisteringly drunk he forgets everything, turn to [Chapter 89](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70686189). 


	66. Chapter 66

Ren wrapped his hand around the hilt of a kitchen knife and slammed it hard down into a daikon, cleaving the vegetable in half. Taiso grunted in displeasure, his own cleaver raising to point at Ren. “Respect,” he said, the single word demanding Ren change his approach to his kitchen. 

Ren faced the man, leaving the knife on the cutting board. “What do you want me to do?” he said. 

Taiso squared off with him, his eyes scanning Ren’s face then moving down, darting from stained shirt to medallion to sword. “Leave,” he said. 

“I am working off our dinner,” Ren argued.

“You are useless.” 

Ren rolled up his sleeves and grabbed the knife again, whacking at the daikon. He would prove his worth. Taisho’s larger cleaver slammed down onto the board, just missing chopping off Ren’s pinky finger. “Leave.”

Ren’s knife was poised in the air above the daikon. “No,” he said. 

Taisho waved his cleaver in Ren’s face; Ren batted it away with his smaller chef’s knife. Metal on metal rang out. Taisho’s face smoothed out, losing the wrinkles that had marred his forehead and pulled tight around the corners of his eyes since Ren walked through the kitchen doors. He slashed down; Ren blocked, grabbed a pot lid, slammed it at Taisho’s face. Taisho grunted, his fist blocking the makeshift shield. He ducked beneath it, somehow holding a skewer. It stabbed at Ren’s stomach; Ren skipped back, sucking his stomach in. 

A pile of potatoes sat on the wood counter. Ren grabbed one and threw it, following the root vegetable with his chef’s knife. Taisho ducked both, spinning away. He ripped a giant stock pot off the shelf and blocked another potato, another, then suddenly the stock pot was over Ren’s head and the cleaver thwacking the side. It rang like a gong. Ren’s vision went white under the pressure of the sound. He dropped to his knees, his hands gripping the edges of the pot and shoving it off. 

Taisho stood above him, a potato skewered on the end of his cleaver. He bit off the end of it and chewed, spitting the skin out into the sink. 

Ren raised his hands in surrender. Taiso smiled. 

“Leave,” he said, the smile not fading. 

Ren pulled himself up on the counter, his grip slipping a bit as a potato rolled away from beneath his hand. He held his head, his hearing still ringing. Nodded gingerly. 

“Go to bed,” Taisho said. “Meal comped.” 

Ren tried to grin. He pushed his way back into the too-loud common room. Hikaru slept near the fire, curled into the heavy wooden chair Ren had left him in. The noise in his head was finally fading. Ren picked up his cloak, shaking his head once more. He was tired, bone-achingly tired. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should go upstairs alone and go to bed, turn to [Chapter 53](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/69520368). If Ren should scoop up Hikaru and carry him upstairs to bed as well, turn to [Chapter 91](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70686408).


	67. Chapter 67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a little known and closely guarded secret that I, the Snoo, love above all else to shower my artistic scritches and pets upon any and all willing vict—er, recipients. Yes, fluffy recipients with silky smooth fur and feathers and ok, maybe even scales. I am an equal opportunity petter. Their squeals of delight and murmurs of contentment as I lavish upon them my artistic attentions are the very sustenance upon which I thrive. THEREFORE, when our very own delightful purveyor of fanfic, Persie the Prolific, invited me to draw a secret illustration chapter for her Renventure (well ok, perhaps the idea was of ambiguous origins, born, as many are, amid a frenetic discord squealing session) I was simply compelled—COMPELLED, I SAY—to comply.  
> Enjoy the luxuriously inviting cloak and SILKY REN HAIRSSS (don't look at the eyes—THE EYES!!!—or you will be bewitched along with poor Kyoko).
> 
> \--chitesnoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Reader, 
> 
> There comes a time in everyone's life when they stumble upon something magic.  
> TODAY IS THAT DAY. 
> 
> You have found the hidden treasure, original Ren x Kyoko art by our one and only chitesnoo, author of the SkipBeat! doujinshi found [here](https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/skip-beat-doujinshi-by-chitesnoo/list?title_no=403243&page=1).
> 
> ENJOY. SCREAM. DROOL. YEARN. PRAISE. Then make your choice.

“Perhaps you’d like to share my cloak as well as this bench?” Ren asked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Kyoko should climb up and begrudgingly allow Ren to enclose her in his cloak, go to [Chapter 72](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677408). If Kyoko, on second thought, realizes that riding in the back is just fine after all, go to [Chapter 73](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677501).


	68. Chapter 68

Hikaru’s fiance stepped back; Ren stepped forward. Her back pressed against the wall beside the fireplace. Ren pressed one arm against the wall, his thumb close enough to her face to stroke the underside of her jaw if he wanted. She wavered, her eyes flicking to the door to the hall. It was still open a crack, noise from the common room where Hikaru waited, beaten, slumped by the fire. He could send her down there, but first, he would test her. “Stay,” he said. “I have coin as well.” 

She licked her lips, her shoulders tightening as if about to spring beneath his branching arm and out into freedom. Then she stilled. A self-assured smile grew over her features. Ren hated her. 

“My lord,” she said with a nod. Ren stood back, his hand falling by his side. She walked to the side of the bed. He followed her, sitting in the same place the man had. Waiting for her warmth on his lap. She gave it, sitting over his knees, a tin tankard clasped between delicate fingers. Amber eyes watched him over the rim. 

He did not hate her; he hated himself. He drank. She smiled. He reached for her hair, his fingers wanting to tuck the short lengths behind her ear but the room was spinning, and he was falling. 

His head wanted to kill him. He groaned, barricading his eyes against the treacherous sunlight battering at the inn’s shutters. 

“I can’t sleep anymore,” Kijima, not Kyoko said from his place by the burnt-out fire. He stood with his back to Ren, his jacket pulled tight over his shoulders from arms reaching forward, twisting against the wooden mantlepiece. 

Ren pushed the sheets back gingerly. He felt hungover, or worse. The room swam slightly, dipping sickeningly beneath his feet as he searched for the floor. He wore his boots still, fully clothed beneath the sheets. “You always liked other night activities better than sleep,” Ren said, his eyes drawn tight against the painful sound of his own voice. “Should be an improvement for you.” 

Kijima turned to face him. “You look like shit,” he said. 

Ren bared his teeth at him. He patted the bedding, looking for his jacket. When he leaned forward to stretch for the end of the bed where the jacket hung, nothing swung free from his chest. He paused; his hand reached for the space the medallion hung. There was nothing. He felt around his neck. “She robbed me!” he said. The medallion was gone. 

“She did more than that,” Kijima said. There was no humor in his tone, no life at all in his voice. He walked to Ren’s side, reached down, and unsheathed the knife from Ren’s belt. Ren flinched backward, nearly falling across the sheets, but Kijima only held it up in front of his face. In the reflection of the blade’s flat side, Ren could see his own face, marked by striking green eyes and a shimmer of blonde hair. He cursed and batted the knife away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should pretend everything is normal and go downstairs for breakfast, turn to [Chapter 69](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677249).. If Ren should stay in his room, waiting for the breakfast crows to leave, turn to [Chapter 74](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677576).


	69. Chapter 69

Ren fought the urge to throw the blankets back over his body. He stood instead, looming over Kijima at his full height. Kijima grinned up at him, the devil-may-care expression on his face jarring with the wicked fangs pressing down into his bottom lip. “So that’s what that medallion did,” Kijima said. 

Ren went to step around him; Kijima blocked his path. He tried again--Kijima blocked him again. Ren snarled in frustration. He kept his hands at his sides, not letting them stray up towards his face and draw even more attention to the blonde hair and green eyes. 

“Who are you?” Kijima asked. 

“Hasn’t changed,” said Ren. He folded his arms across his chest. He stared pointedly at Kijima’s mouth. “Unlike some people.” 

Kijima bared his teeth at Ren. “You chose yours,” he said. “And you own me an explanation.” 

Ren leaned forward, unafraid of Kijima. “I owe you  _ nothing _ ,” he said. He owed everything already to Tina; there was nothing left of him to give Kijima. “But there’s a wench downstairs that owes me my necklace back, and you will let me past.”

Kijima grinned, his arm sweeping wide as he stepped back to make way for Ren. Ren pushed past him, grabbing his sword from the chair it leaned against. Steal a necklace; leave the sword. She made no sense. He pulled open the door--Kijima slammed it shut again. He stood behind Ren. He was too strong now, Ren couldn’t force the door open beneath his grip. He stood still, waiting, his impatience rising. Kijima pressed one finger against the side of Ren’s neck. “If you really want to disappear,” he said, “I can help with that now.” 

Ren shivered, shaking his hand off with a jerk of his shoulders. “Let me out,” he said. Kijima stepped back. Ren ripped open the door and walked out, bracing himself for Hikaru’s reaction. It wasn’t that he wasn’t tempted by Kijima’s offer--with that power he could easily make or steal enough to provide for Tina the rest of her life--it was just eclipsed by the desperate need to find Kyoko. 

Find her, get his medallion back, and punish her. 

His boots clattered on the stairs as he rushed down, drawing attention to the door even before he burst through. The tables were full of travelers partaking of breakfast. Most looked back to their bowls, not knowing him enough to comment on the change. Hikaru stood, his chair falling over behind him, his eyes wide. “Your hair--” he started. Then his eyes narrowed. “Which is real?” 

Ren shook his head, crossing the room to Hikaru’s side. “Not important. Where is your fiance?” 

Hikaru gaped at him. “Who?” 

“Kyoko! She robbed me last night.” 

Hikaru’s mouth opened and closed. He scanned the room. “She’s not--not here, Ren. What are you talking about?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should calm down and have breakfast, turn to [Chapter 71](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677354). If Ren should go on the hunt for Kyoko, turn to [Chapter 70](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677303).


	70. Chapter 70

“She is, and she robbed me.” Ren let go of Hikaru’s arm. “Finish your meal.” The stables were out back. He would check there first, make sure she wasn’t getting an early start. Unless she’d crept out in the night like the thief she was. 

The stables were dimly lit, the meager winter sunlight struggling to peek through the slatted air windows at the top of the wooden walls. Near the front stall, two women were loading packs into the back of a simple cart. Behind them, Kyoko sang quietly as she fastened a bridle onto a pack mule. 

“Thief,” Ren growled. The two with her looked up. She did not. The cart prevented him from entering the stall. 

She finished her work with the mule and led him forward, still ignoring his presence. The other two girls shot looks at one another, then followed her lead, resuming their work. Ren was not used to being ignored. He gripped one side of the mule’s bridle and held the animal still, leaning over its neck to confront her. “Return my medallion.” 

Kyoko met his stare with one of her own, golden eyes glowing in the dim light. She was forcing a proud look, but beneath it was something sadder, tugging at the corners of her mouth, betraying she was not as certain as she seemed. “I will not,” she said. 

Ren moved back toward the cart. “Then I will find it myself,” he said. One of her friends, a woman with long black hair and skin as pale as Kijima’s, blocked his hands as he reached for one of their bags. Her stare dared him to try and force her away. 

Kyoko spoke to him from the driver’s seat of the cart. “You will not,” she said. 

Ren roared in frustration, leaping up to the seat beside her, looming over her as he stood on the cart’s raised platform. “What do you want from me?” 

Kyoko did not look at him. She smiled into the distance, her eyes unfocused, watching something inside herself. “I want to know your story,” she said. She looked at him then, her head cocked, her eyes skipping over his face, lighting on each of his features. Ren’s hand clenched, desperate to wrap itself around the medallion and know he was safe. 

“I do not owe you anything,” he said.  _ Especially not my story.  _

The other two girls climbed into the cart. Kyoko clacked the reins against the mule’s back. The animal began to walk slowly out of the barn and into the misty morning. Ren was forced to sit, the swaying making his stance unsteady. 

“You were a boy who found a secret stream, once,” she began, her words holding him bound to the simple wooden seat. “A boy who found a girl.” Her gaze turned to him then, locking with his. There were tears gathering in their corners, but beneath was a smile, rich and bright. 

He knew her, then. A girl at a stream, making him a lunch of rocks that looked like hamburgers, her eyes brimming with tears above the truest smile he’d ever seen. 

“Kyoko,” he said, his knuckles white from his grip on the cart.

She nodded, the movement freeing a single tear to slip down her cheek. “Corn.” 

He reached forward and brushed the tear off his face. The action felt surreal, like he was still in his room, drugged to sleep and having fever dreams. But her skin was warm beneath his fingers, and then he was wiping a second tear, and a third, and her friends were yelling at her to explain. 

“I want to hear your story,” she said again. But this time, Kuon nodded, his hand slipping down to rest on top of hers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at an End. There is much more to be told for these two, but that is for another day. Perhaps you can find your way to another happy ending?
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	71. Chapter 71

Ren dropped his grip on his friend’s shoulder, slumping into the chair next to him. Hikaru shoved a plate of bread and stew across the table to him. “Eat,” he said, “and then you can explain to me why you’ve suddenly decided to look like a Viking.” 

Ren scoffed but shoved the bread in his mouth. Between one bite and the next he looked up at Hikaru. His eyes were red and swollen, his cheeks pale. Ren looked away. Out the front window of the inn, a cart rolled by slowly. A blonde woman drove it, two friends perched in the back. “Hikaru,” Ren said, his voice calm. “Go outside.” 

Hikaru frowned at him. He glanced at the front door. “I don’t--”

“Just trust me,” Ren said. “And do it quickly, before I change my mind.” 

Hikaru nodded, striding to the front door. Ren took another bite of bread, staring at the small fire burning in the fireplace. He listened to a shout from Hikaru’s lips; an answering one of joy from a woman. The cart’s wheels stopping, the mule’s impatient bray. The door burst open again. 

“My bride!” Hikaru ran to Ren’s side, scooping his lure from the chair beside him. “Come, Ren, we are leaving together. Can you believe? I walked outside and Kyoko—“ Hikaru stopped, his face flushing. “I will ask her about the medallion.”

Ren wiped his face with his kerchief and stood. “No need,” he said. “I was mistaken.” 

“Ren,” Hikaru said, grinning at him. “She is here. It is like fate.” 

“Go,” said Ren. Hikaru stood a moment longer, torn. Ren shoved his shoulder. The bard nodded, turning, running, bowing all at once, a chaos of man and joy as he tumbled out the door to his future. “Fate,” Ren said to himself, seeing his reflection again in the misted window. He shook his head and sat back down. 

The inn emptied slowly, life inside dying with the fire’s flames. Ren waited until only he was left in the common room before returning to his room. A single bag, all he had to carry with him. He pulled the hood of his cloak up, trying to cover the entirety of his blonde hair. It marked him as out of place, to the people here and to himself. He would find dye, or make his way back to Takarada’s mansion. 

For now, he would need to return to the Fuwas and let them know he had failed. The five hundred coins would be worth the look on the young bastard’s face when he told Shotaro he’d set the couple up instead of separating them and bringing Kyoko back. Ren grinned to himself, turning away from his reflection in the mirror. 

The path he took to the Fuwas was a narrow one, barely more than a deer track. They lived in an exclusive inn high in the mountains, with a broad, stone-paved road leading straight to the front door. Ren took the long route, winding around rock formations and over small streams, lost in his thoughts. A camped against a lean-to made of large boulders that night. A shadow joined him across the fire, far enough back from the flames he could not make out the visitor’s face. 

“You left without me,” Kijima said, his tone accusatory. 

Ren shrugged, poking at the embers. A shower of sparks leapt up, illuminating his friend’s face. For a moment, there was the color of life on Kijima’s skin. But the glow faded, and night took him back. “I left without me,” he said, his voice quiet. 

Too quiet for another man to hear, but Kijima was no man. “Melodrama,” Kijima said. “Has turning blonde stripped you of your senses?” 

Ren looked at him then. His hands were tight on his knees, and his eyes watched Ren and not the fire. Red eyes, as red as the flames reaching up, stretching for his pale fingers. He looked haunted. 

He looked like Ren, but turned inside out. 

“I want…” Kijima stopped, running his tongue along the rim of his teeth. They were smooth again, for now. Ren looked away, then back at his friend’s face. Kijima’s eyes had never left him, watching him carefully. Watching Kuon. “I want you to come with me.” He did not mean as a friend anymore. 

“You want to turn me,” Ren said. His hand shook as he scraped it through his hair. He wrapped his fingers around a single strand, close to his ear, and pulled. It shone golden in the firelight. Ren raised his hand and dropped the strand into the flames. He watched it curl in on itself, turning black once more. 

“I am a selfish bastard,” Kijima said. There was no mockery in his voice. It was the honesty of a bare blade laid on an open palm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should agree with Kijima’s request and become a vampire, turn to [Chapter 76](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677696). If Ren should refuse, turn to [Chapter 75](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677612). 


	72. Chapter 72

Her hand fit perfectly inside his, her warmth pushing against the medallion’s chill. He felt it shimmer up his arm, breaking the cold while her skin touched his. Ren’s mask faltered, the smug air of seduction that had slipped over him at the chance to be near her broken by the purity of her touch. He was silent as he helped her up, silent as she settled onto the seat, perching atop his cloak. Silent as her warmth pressed not against his hand but the space beside him. He was alive with her. 

Kyoko’s hands rested on top of her skirt, the tips crossing. One of her fingers gently stroked the other. She looked up at him, then back away. “You remind me of someone,” she said, as if those words were all the explanation he needed for her decision. 

“Oh?” he managed. A flick of the reins; Ren remembered to make the horse move. The action helped reassemble the mercenary shield, creating a barrier between the girl beside him and the man beneath the mask. 

“A boy I once knew,” she continued. “Or perhaps not a boy.” She laughed then, a humble sound. “I thought he was a fairy. He had eyes, and hair,” she glanced at Ren again; he felt the mask slip. He desperately wanted her to say the eyes were green and the hair was gold. She stopped though, with another laugh. “Of course he did.” Her gaze fell to his medallion. 

Ren cleared his throat, not yet willing to tell her the truth of his disguise. “I remind people of many men,” he said. “It’s a casualty of being tall, once you reach a certain height your face blurs and other people just assume you’re that other tall man they saw once.” 

Kyoko giggled, a different, brighter laugh than the ones before. Ren wanted to start a collection of her laughs. He wondered what a ticklish laugh would sound like, but a glance at the corseted, beribboned dress she wore was dangerous enough; touching her was out of the question. 

“You are so different though,” Kyoko said. Words fell easily from her mouth, ones he hadn’t known he’d been dying to hear. “My friend was magical, and you have the same oddness to you. Like you’ve come from elsewhere and we just happened to catch you passing by.” 

“Like a fairy,” Ren said, focusing on the funniness of labeling himself a small, sparkly being to force himself away from the implications of her calling him magical. 

Kyoko clapped her hands together. “Yes! Corn was exactly like a fairy!” 

Ren jerked on the reins. “What was his name?” 

“Oh, I know, it’s odd. But that’s part of what proves that he is a fairy. Fairies are always named after flowers, or fruits, so why would a vegetable be any different?” 

“Kuon,” Ren whispered. 

“No,” Kyoko said, her mouth rounding with the single syllable name. “Corn.” 

Ren nodded silently, knowing the truth. The medallion felt freezing cold around his neck. He could remove it, show her, prove to her that he was more than a mercenary--but was no fairy prince. A real man, her Corn, that childhood friend, and fate had woven him back into her life. “Where did you meet him?” His throat was dry; he had to swallow before and after the words. 

“Kyoto,” she said, leaning back against the seat. Her arm brushed his. He wanted to lean into her. He faced straight ahead, his eyes flicking to the side, looking for Hikaru. 

“Have you,” Ren paused. The crew in the back of the cart was discussing lunch already, Shinichi harassing Kanae over her desire to haggle for a cheap price on an already cheap meal of beans and rice. He pressed the question, confident in their inattention if not in his ability to stay as Ren. “Have you seen him since?” 

Kyoko sighed. Her fingers twisted into a knot, then released. “I have not,” she said, each word inexpressibly sad. Then she sat up, determination straightening her spine. “But I know he is well, for he promised me he would be.” 

_ He is well,  _ Ren thought,  _ if that means alive.  _

“I am sure he thinks of you as well,” Ren said with confidence. The girl in the clearing had been a source of peace for him over the years. Someone that saw him, not his father, and not his failures. Just Kuon--and yet still thought he was magic. 

“I will be free like he was,” she said, her eyes aflame with purpose. “I will be free, and he will be proud of me.”

“Free?” Ren asked, flicking the reins. “How?”

“Marrying Hikaru of course.” 

Ren nearly choked on his surprise. “This--sets you free?”

Kyoko glared at the road ahead, but behind the glare he could see something uncertain. The anger was forced, covering up a deepset anxiety. He knew the mask well. “Marriage affords me financial security,” Kyoko said, her voice deathly calm. She sounded like she was rehearsing a script.

“Marriage is for love,” he said.

Kyoko laughed. “You sound like Hikaru. I was taught early on,” she said, her face clouded, “that love has no part in a successful marriage. You marry for prosperity. For practical reasons. Love is useless and makes us nothing but property.” 

_ She is my property _ , Ren heard Fuwa say. He gritted his teeth against the memory. “Then you could marry anyone.”

“What’s this about weddings?” Hikaru said, beaming up from beside the cart. He sipped a tankard of water as he walked, his eyes bouncing from Ren to Kyoko. 

“I am explaining to him about our wedding,” Kyoko said.

Hikaru’s grin grew uncertain. “Oh?” he said.

“Why must we travel to your mother’s first, then?” Ren asked. He whipped the reins, his agitation at the conversation bleeding into his driving. Hikaru fell behind, scrambling to catch the end of the cart and pull himself up next to Kanae and Chiori as they rattled over the bumpy path. 

“Freedom,” Kyoko said. She looked like an ancient goddess in the wind of the cart’s passing, her smile baring her teeth and the wind pulling strands of her hair out of its fixings to whip at her cheeks. 

“Then marry now,” Ren offered. “Kijima’s a scribe, and an officiant. Marry Hikaru now, if you want to so badly.” He whipped the horse again. “Or me, if anyone will do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Kyoko should marry Ren, turn to [Chapter 78](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677837). If Kyoko should marry Hikaru, turn to [Chapter 79](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677864).


	73. Chapter 73

Kyoko pulled her hand back off the cart, her eyes wide with shock and concern. “I do not,” she began, then stumbled over herself and started again. “I do not think I want to.” She curtsied sharply. “Thank you, sir.”

Ren cursed himself black and blue as she scampered to the back of the wagon, apologizing to Kanae and Chiori as she climbed in and settled herself between Hikaru and Kanae. Hikaru wrapped his arm around her shoulders; she blushed and moved forward. His arm dropped, no longer touching her shoulders but still caught on the hem of her dress. Hikaru rubbed it between his fingers, beaming at her. Ren whipped the reins, spurring the mule into motion. 

Mile after mile passed, each one filled with the sound of their voices. Ren ached for Kijima to come forward and launch himself into the driver’s seat, filling the void at his side with any company, no matter how raucous and annoying. Or demand the reins--this time, he would give them. This time, he would risk the jarring speed of Kijima’s driving for the chance to disappear into the forest’s darkness and not have to listen to Hikaru telling Kyoko about his home. 

“--modest, but warm. We will have a bread oven--” Kyoko gasped at this, her hand covering the delight spreading across her lips. “--and several bedrooms. My brothers are excellent carpenters as well as bandits.” He was shameless, not even stumbling over the admission of their banditry. Ren flicked the reins. The mule shook its head in displeasure. 

“I would like to study their craft,” Kyoko said. She pulled a sachet out from the folds of her dress, unwrapping a miniature doll from its velvety folds. “I have been meaning to learn more of woodworking for my dolls.” She placed the figure in Hikaru’s hands. It had no face, just a smooth, rounded twist of wheat covered in a tiny jacquard cloth outfit with gold embroidery on the shoulders. “It is you,” she said, with a blush.

Hikaru beamed, stroking the doll’s empty face with his fingers. “It is exquisite.”

“I wish to make the bodies of wood,” Kyoko said, nearly bouncing in her seat with excitement. “They would be ever so much more lifelike.”

“Perfect for curses,” Chiori chimed in, smirking at her friend until Kanae elbowed her in the stomach. 

The temperature began to drop, the air’s chill highlighting the blush of jealousy decorating Ren’s cheeks. He scowled and scanned the horizon, looking for the crack in the mountains where the Queen was said to hide. Kanae slid over the division separating the back from the front of the cart like she was mounting sidesaddle. Her regard made him feel shallow for wanting someone else’s fiance to chose him first. He smiled at her, one of his best. She narrowed her eyes, looking out over the mountains instead of softening toward him. 

“There,” she said, pointing at a dark smudge in the snowy cap of the mountain the rode towards. “Saena’s castle.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 80](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677927).


	74. Chapter 74

Ren sank back down on the bed, pulling the covers over his head. 

“Drama,” Kijima said, “it's just a wig.” 

Ren sneered at the vampire through the blankets. “It is not a wig,” he whispered to himself. He didn’t move. He heard Kijima step back. A clinking near the mantle; a rustle of clothing. 

“Suit yourself,” Kijima said. The door closed, and Ren was alone. Only then did he let the sheet fall off him as he sat up. He pulled on a piece of blonde hair, forcing it down to where he could see it, unfocused and doubled before his eyes. The charm Takarada had given him was gone, and the murderer was freed. Ren would have to run again. 

He waited until the inn below him quieted, the travelers moving on after breakfast. Then he pulled the hood of his cloak up, sinking into its deep folds so only a hint of blonde showed near the edge, left a gold coin for payment on the mantle, and disappeared into the forest. 

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we have arrived at an end. Please choose another path to follow if this leaves you wanting. 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	75. Chapter 75

“I cannot,” Ren said, staring at the darkness beyond Kijima. His vision swam with spots burned black by the fire’s light. “I owe a debt.” 

Kijima’s fist hit his leg once. He spoke no words. Ren did not look at his face again, not as he stood, not as he left. 

The fire died slowly. Ren stared into the darkness. He did not sleep that night, nor many nights thereafter. He had a debt to pay, and he could not rest until he did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we have come to an end. There are many other paths to take, perhaps you will try another? 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	76. Chapter 76

Ren’s hand curled into an empty fist. “As am I,” he said, meeting Kijima’s gaze. “I killed a man. I ran, and he followed, and he died. His woman was there, she saw.” 

Kijima opened his mouth in protest, but Ren cut him off. “That is not the selfish part,” Ren said. “I ran again. She called me a  _ murderer _ but I did not stay and face life without Rick. I ran.” Ren’s voice broke. “I hid. And while she tried to live on, I told myself that if I just sent her enough money I’d find peace.” He laughed at himself, the sound as dry as the logs crackling between them. “Money cannot buy back a man’s life.” 

Kijima leaned over the fire, close enough to the flames his eyes were thrown into shadow by the bright, upwards light. “Making your life new is not selfishness,” he said. His hair fell forward, he brushed it back, his gaze on Ren like a branding iron. “It is just living.” 

“Make myself new,” Ren said. He spread his hands, stretching wide into the night. “Everything I am is a lie--you can see that.” 

“I see a change in coloring.” Kijima thumped his chest. “I do not see new life.” 

Ren swallowed. His hands fell to his sides, gripping the stone he sat upon.

“If you want to run,” Kijima said, standing now, walking around to Ren’s side. “Let’s run.” 

Ren took his hand, clasping it tight. He did not let go as he stood, nor as Kijima stepped forward. “Make me new,” Ren whispered, his head bending to the side. Kijima wrapped him in a hug, thumping Ren on the back. His grip on Ren’s hand shook, then steadied. He pulled back just enough to look Ren in the face. Ren nodded, and closed his eyes, his world narrowing to the feeling of Kijima’s hand locked around his and his breath warm on his neck.

Then a deeper heat replaced the breath. It pushed, sinking in, spreading, like hot coals rumbling beneath his skin. His hand twisted, flexing beneath Kijima’s grip. Kijima pressed Ren’s fist into his stomach, stepping forward, pushing him until his back was against the rock face. Cold rock, blood on fire; Ren was gasping. His knees buckled--Kijima’s arm caught him, holding him up. Ren’s head rolled to the side. He felt Kijima shift, felt the bite deepen. 

The stars above him were beautiful. A million miles away, dying just to give them light. “Thank you,” Ren whispered, as darkness took him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at an end. Perhaps my favorite end. I could write an entirely new story from this, and someday perhaps I shall. But here, this story rests. Merry Christmas. 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	77. Chapter 77

“You too,” Ren said. He walked past her, untying his tunic. When she took a step toward the tankard at the bedside instead of toward the door Ren growled. She flinched, stepping back and away from him. Then, with a swirl of dress and a fast patter of steps, she was gone, running down the hallway to the room at the end. 

Ren lay down, his hand over his eyes. “Golden eyes,” he said to himself. “More like fool’s gold.” He would have to tell his friend what he’d seen. But tonight he was tired, and Hikaru needed rest as well. 

Ren tossed and turned as the moon rose in the sky. Sleep evaded him. The crowd downstairs grew raucous with drink. Ren gave up, shrugging his tunic back on and stomping downstairs to join the merriment. Drink would buy him oblivion, and oblivion was a form of rest. 

Hikaru sat in a chair by the fire, asleep and slumped over the armrest. The bar was mostly full, men in garb stained with travel and work hunched over tankards and heels of bread. A stool at the end had a dirty mug but no patron. Ren took it. The innkeep bustled over to him, a smile on her face. 

“What’ll it be?” she said.

“Your strongest,” Ren said, “and plenty of it.” 

She raised an eyebrow. The man next to him turned toward Ren, scanning Ren’s profile. Ren propped his chin on his hand and returned the favor. He was in no mood for games. The man—an archer, given the callus between his middle fingers—gave no sign of embarrassment, meeting Ren’s stare with eyes clear and wary beneath his loose, dark curls. 

The innkeep returned with a collection of glasses as wide as the counter before Ren. She held her hand out, expecting payment before he consumed the lot. Ren bit the inside of his lip. He’d asked for a lot, and she’d answered. He placed one gold coin in her palm. She bit it, then added an orange slice to the glass closest to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 41](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/68978505). 


	78. Chapter 78

“You?” Kyoko dissolved into a fit of laughter, each blast edging her away from him on the seat. “I don’t even know you!” 

“What’s this?” Chiori said from behind them, hanging on tight to the cart’s side. The mule was trotting now, the movement jarring the girls in the back wildly. “What’s the--c--commotion?” 

The road veered right; Ren let the reins loose. The mule strained forward, eyes bulging at the sudden precipice as their cart began its climb up the mountain path. 

“Slow down!” Kanae called. 

Kyoko was still laughing, nervous now. He could hear Hikaru shouting at them from behind, near the edge of the woods. The cart angled to the side, hitting a rut carved by torrents from the summer’s melting snow. It wouldn’t be melting farther up the mountain, the closer they got to her mother’s palace. Ren reached for the reins to slow the mule down, regretting his intemperance over her refusal of his ludicrous offer. 

It was too late. The front wheel hit a stone, snapping the axle. The cart lurched, flipped, tumbled off the side of the mountain, dragging its passengers and the mule with it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader. 
> 
> I apologize.
> 
> But she really couldn’t say yes to that, could she? Do go try the other option. 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 
> 
> The End.


	79. Chapter 79

Kyoko laughed brightly, brushing off both of Ren’s offers. Hikaru grabbed the side of the cart and leapt in, reaching over Ren’s shoulder to pull on the reins and slow the mule’s canter. “Can’t have you driving the cart off that cliff because my fiance wouldn’t marry you,” he said. The words were playful, but his eyes had a firmness to them as he looked at Ren. 

Hikaru was right; the road ahead curved sharply, the forest dropping away to the sudden magnificence of the North Mountain Range. Their path tiptoed around the edge of the first chain of mountains, dropping off steeply on the East to a wide gorge with a green-tinted river snaking along its bottom. Ren had fished in the river before; miles below it was wide, the green hints of color welcoming in its beauty. From above it looked like a venomous snake. Ren nodded his apology to Hikaru, taking the reins back from him. 

“If your darling won’t have you, then I shall!” Kijima said. He stood on the ledge at the back of the cart, swaying precariously, drawing screeches of delight from Chiori and disapproval from Kanae. Hikaru stood, wandering in a drunken-looking weave around their belongings toward Kijima, each step unsteady with the wagon’s jolting. 

“Dearest!” Hikaru shouted. “At long last, our wedding day!” 

Kijima clasped Hikaru’s hand, making to kiss his ring finger. The front wheel tipped into a rut, sending him off balance. He fell frontwards, smashing the bard beneath his weight and trapping the hems of Chiori and Kanae’s dresses beneath them. Kyoko’s laugh grew brighter. She was turned around in the seat, both hands clasped on the back of it, bouncing more with hilarity than the uneven road. Ren wrapped the reins around his hands and made the mule walk slowly, pacing itself so he could steal glances at her without fear of the animal’s misstep. 

“We are close,” he said, once Hikaru and Kijima had righted themselves. Kyoko’s merriment faltered. She turned, her eyes not on the road but on the mountain looming before them. Just above the treeline a deep crevasse split the side of the mountain. The sunlight refracted off its ice-filled depths, colors and light shifting like the waves of a frozen ocean. At the top of the crevasse a single pale spire stretched toward the sky. 

“Mother,” Kyoko said, her hands calmly folded in her lap. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 81](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70677990).


	80. Chapter 80

The castle lay in the depths of a crevasse, hidden in darkness and ice. Ren drew the cart up at the edge of the treeline, leaping out before it stopped. Shinichi and Yuusei ran in from the trees, their weapons at the ready. 

“No,” Ren said. He waved them back, ignoring their confused faces. “I go in, alone.” 

Kyoko’s mouth opened in protest. He glared at her. She quailed away from his look, shrinking into Hikaru’s arms. Ren’s mood blackened, sharpening his anger. Only one person dared shove in past his visage. 

“I go as well,” Kanae said. She didn’t wait for his answer, walking toward the castle without another word. 

Kijima burst out a protest. “Plan?” he said. “Need a plan, or this is entirely too balls to the walls even for me.” 

“We pretend to be lost, the lady wounded. Ask for succor. Whether the Queen agrees or not she need only answer the door and I will slay her,” Ren said. Kijima grimaced, but nodded. In the cart, Hikaru and Kyoko talked quietly. Her eyes were on Ren, but it was not enough. It would never be enough with the bard between them. Ren brushed the thought off and turned to follow Kanae. First, deal with her mother. 

The walls of the canyon reared up above them like ancient gravestones, blocking out the sun’s light until they were bathed in a still, gray light filtered through ice and stone. Kanae said nothing, her hand on the hilt of a hunting knife she wore at her side. He tugged at her arm, forcing her to stop and face him for a moment. “Need succor,” he said, reminding her of the hastily formed plan. 

She raised one eyebrow at him. “I assumed that was your job.”

Ren’s mouth gaped; she walked on. He grimaced but fell in with her, letting his right side slump and his foot drag. He pulled his face tight as if in pain, his arms winding around his midsection. He moaned. She elbowed him in the stomach. “Don’t overdo it,” she said. 

Ahead of them, the crevasse ended in a pair of magnificent doors carved of ice. Harts leaped up from their base, hooves about to clash with one another. Kanae slammed her fist against the door as high as she could reach, not even to the top of the hart’s grounded leg. The sound of her fist echoed down the cavern before fading into silence. 

“Knock again?” Ren whispered. But the sound of rock grinding against rock jerked his attention back to the doors. They swung open slowly, scraping over the mountain’s side, raining snow and dust down on the pair. Between them, silhouetted in blue light, stood a woman in a dress as white as snow and skin as pale as ice. She stared regally at them, her back ramrod straight.

“We beg pardon,” Kanae began, her voice modulating itself to cover the spite she held for Kyoko’s mother, “but we are lost in these mountains. My… husband is wounded. We need assistance, shelter for the night only.” 

The Queen’s icy stare lodged on Ren. He grimaced as if in pain, holding himself gingerly, braced against Kanae’s shoulder. Her gaze trickled down him to the sword at his side before snapping back to the medallion at his chest. A single nod, barely there. Kanae curtsied, her hand held out, pretending to steady Ren. The Queen turned; Ren drew his sword. 

It happened in a moment. He lunged forward, his sword hurtling toward the Queen’s neck. She reached back, catching the sword in her palm. Her skin was rocksolid, like ancient ice. The sword fractured. Her head twisted, a smile distorting her features. Then her mouth was opening, teeth as sharp as icicles growing longer, pushing past her lips as her jaw stretched, rearing back until it snapped forward over him, and all was dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we have come to an end. Perhaps… try another path. 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	81. Chapter 81

The group was cold and silent, huddled in a circle at the crevasse’s edge. Snowflakes hung suspended in the air around them, added to with each freezing exhale until their vision was blanketed in white. The trip had ended too soon for comfort, too soon to grapple fully with the possibility of not all of them making it home. Saena’s castle waited for them, back in the darkness of the crevasse. Inside it, the Snow Queen herself. Kyoko’s mother, and her prison guard. They’d tossed around plans, all unsatisfying.

Kijima: “A frontal assault. Balls to the walls, we tear down the front door and stab her in the heart.” 

Hikaru: “Perhaps we ask nicely?” 

Shinichi: “We make a vat of stew. I hide inside, using a hollowed-out loaf of old bread as a breathing tube. Put me on the front porch, and when she takes me in for dinner I will jump out and destroy her!” 

Yuusei: “No.” 

Chiori: “Send me in. I’ll seduce her.” 

Kyoko: “I will go alone. She’s my mother.” 

Ren and Kanae teamed up, pushing the plan that was eventually agreed upon if only because Kanae looked like she would be the executioner for anyone who let Kyoko go in by herself  _ or  _ said “balls to the walls” ever again. Kyoko would enter, bringing Ren as her intended fiance. She would ask for an audience with her mother to receive blessings on the marriage. 

She would get one, and then Ren would attack. 

Kyoko hugged each of them, starting with Kanae and working through everyone, even Kijima (who whispered “balls to the walls, Mogami,” low enough that Kanae could not hear him). Everyone except Ren. She stood next to him as he nodded farewell to his friends, her hands clasped together. 

Hikaru called out when the pair turned away. “You’ve already RSVP’d to the wedding! Don’t fuck this up and miss it!” His voice tore slightly on the curse word, running jagged with tears through the lusty cheer. 

Ren raised his hand, the fingers balled in a fist. He heard Kijima pound on the cart in answer. 

Then the crevasse swallowed the light. He followed Kyoko by sound, walking slowly beside her, matching one step to every two of hers. The ground grew slick. It climbed a steady incline. Blue light glowed softly all around them as ice replaced stone. It was beautiful, like walking through the sea, waves rearing up, waiting to fall and drown them. Ren traced his hand along the ice. Lights deep inside seemed to follow his path, calling him to join them in eternal stillness. 

They came to a door made of ice, with snow-white carvings of two deer kicking out at one another. Kyoko reached one gloved hand toward him, and the other toward the door. “We should hold hands,” she whispered. “Fiance.” 

Her knock sounded small and impossible to hear inside what must be a cavernous castle. But her hand in his was warm. The ice inside and the ice outside had been closing in on Ren; he hadn’t realized how dark his thoughts had become until she touched him. 

With a terrible  _ crack _ \--the sound of a mountain sundering--the door split down its center. It ground open, churning up the ice and stone beneath it. A woman, or something like one, stood in its center. Everything about her was cold. Not the cold of a winter day, or a fresh snow. The cold of a glacier’s heart, never to be melted. Her skin was so pale it looked translucent. Light reflected off her high cheekbones, their smoothness contrasting starkly with the deep gorges creasing her forehead. 

She stood silently, her eyes fixed on Kyoko. Not a word of welcome or acknowledgement outside the opening of the doors. 

“Mother,” Kyoko said, curtsying. 

The Queen said nothing, her only reaction a new fissure appearing in the icy depths of her forehead. Her regard turned slowly to Ren. He bowed. “If I may, I wish to someday also call you Mother.” The lie threatened to catch in his throat. He forced it past easily, years of practice making it flow despite the nausea. Kyoko’s hand spasmed in his, then she stepped forward, pulling him with her. His other hand hung loose at his side, an instant’s grip away from his sword. He had not expected the Queen to be made of ice. His sword would fracture. He would need to draw from the medallion to cast a spell of strengthening on it before he attacked.

Another step. They would be in range soon. Ren whispered the beginnings of the spell, his lips barely moving. The Queen’s eyes were on Kyoko, hardening with each step closer her daughter took. The air seemed to follow its Queen, ice particles clustering around the pair. Kyoko’s lips were tinged blue, but the warmth from her hand to his remained steady. 

He was nearly done with the spell. A few more steps and the Queen would be within reach of his sword. 

“You are not my daughter,” the Queen said. With each word her voice grew harsher. Kyoko flinched, but stepped forward instead of back. 

“I am,” Kyoko said, her voice strong. 

The Queen’s mouth opened, exposing teeth as sharp as icicles. She growled at Kyoko. “You are  _ his  _ blood! Traitor’s blood!” The words were a scream. Ice answered its Queen, shattering off the walls of the castle, shards sharp as glass plummeting toward Kyoko and Ren. 

Ren’s whisper turned to a shout; he forced the end of the spell out and into the sword, feeling the magic ripping at his core. The Queen’s attention snapped to him. Fingers more claws than flesh reached out, scraping across his torso, ripping the medallion from his chest. 

“No!” Kyoko shouted. She threw herself at her mother. Ren gasped as the spell he’d lived under for years was torn asunder. The magic leaving felt like fire burning off his skin, burning away Ren and leaving nothing but Kuon, shattered, exposed, kneeling on the icy ground before the ice witch. 

Ice shards cut at him as the glacier continued to shed fragments, the walls and ceiling hailing down around them. Kyoko struggled, beating at her mother, trapped in the Queen’s frozen grip. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should risk his life to save Kyoko, turn to [Chapter 82](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70678032). If Kuon should run for help, turn to [Chapter 83](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70678320).


	82. Chapter 82

There was no time to think. Kuon sprang forward, narrowly missing being crushed by a block of ice as it exploded on the castle’s floor. The Queen was holding Kyoko in the air in front of her, her face twisted in pain. She was silent, just staring at her daughter like it was she, and not Kyoko, who was the victim. Then she saw Kuon charging at her, his sword high, and flung Kyoko. The girl hit the palace floor, skidding backward on the ice to slam against one of the massive icicles now buried to its hilt in the mountain. 

Kuon yelled, throwing his weight into the downward force of his enchanted sword. Snow crystals evaporated, hissing, as it sliced through the air toward the Queen’s neck. She extended her hand, a blast of ice shooting out from the center of her palm. It hit Kuon in the chest, slamming him back. 

She stared at him, her face perfect in its cold fury. His chest felt like it was about to explode, cold squeezing around his heart, pressing in from all sides. Kuon’s hands scrabbled at his leather armor, trying to rip it off as if that would free his lungs to breathe and his heart to beat. 

In the corner of his eye he saw Kyoko standing, one arm cradled against her chest. Her eyes were locked on her mother. The Queen’s head shifted, following Kuon’s attention. A small camp knife glittered in Kyoko’s hand. The Queen raised her hand palm out toward her daughter. 

“No!” Kuon shouted. He gulped in air, shoving himself up. Blood pounded in his ears. He was suffocating, his vision burning black around the edges. Blue light shimmered around the Queen’s hand; Kuon raised his sword, more falling against it than striking as he slid it into the Queen’s chest, piercing her heart. A scream tore through the castle, barely heard over the deep rumble as the ceiling began to cave in. 

Kuon gasped for air. “Run,” he said. The Queen’s body beneath him was hard and cold. He clung to the icy corpse and the knowledge that Kyoko was free.  _ Run Kyoko _ , he thought, no longer able to speak. The castle groaned, refusing to persist without its Queen. The world went dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 84](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70685643).


	83. Chapter 83

Ren flung himself backward, narrowly missing being crushed by a block of ice as it exploded on the castle’s floor. He needed help. “Kanae!” he shouted. “Kijima!” He ran, his arm up, shielding his vision from the flecks of ice as sharp as glass. 

He rushed through the door, racing for the group at the end of the crevasse. “Hurry!” he shouted, waving at them. He had so little time. 

A rumble shook the mountain beneath his feet, drowning Ren’s shout. He turned in horror. The ice castle fell in on itself, burying everyone within in an impenetrable pile of ice and stone. 

“Kyoko!” Kanae shouted, coughing, forcing her way through the explosion. “Kyoko!” 

Ren grabbed her, pulling her back toward the opening. “She’s gone.” He forced the words out. “She’s gone.” 

Kanae screamed then, screamed at him, at the mountain, at the sky. She fell, kneeling before the fallen castle. Chiori knelt beside her, trying to wrap her in her arms. Kanae beat her away, turning her face away so none could see the tears pushing their way through the dust covering her face. 

Hikaru stood silently, staring not at the castle but at the man who had pretended to be Ren. His face was drawn tight in accusation. 

“I know,” Kuon said, his hand wandering to the place his medallion had been. He should not be the one alive. But it was always him left standing over the body. 

Hikaru turned from him, walking away. Kijima held a beat longer, his eyes on Kanae’s back. Then he turned and followed his friend, not even looking at Kuon. Hikaru’s brothers bowed their heads to Kuon, their faces twisted with pain. He bowed deeply, not rising until they had also turned, following their brother. No one said a word about his new form, as if he was already fading from their lives. 

The mountain fell silent, the ice settled into its final form. Only the sound of Kanae’s sobbing and Chiori’s quiet comfort echoed. 

Kuon let his sword fall into the snow, unable to bear the chill of its enchantment. He began to walk away. 

Kanae’s scream lanced him from behind. “MURDERER!” she shouted. 

He did not turn to see if she meant him or the Queen. Kuon knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	84. Chapter 84

When the castle had started to cave in, the ice collapsing in on itself, he and Kijima sprinted towards it. They were barely able to see the pair in the eerie blue light inside the Queen’s castle. Kyoko had been bent over a man Hikaru almost didn’t recognize, so startlingly different was his coloring. She was trying to drag him toward the entrance, but one arm hung loose and useless by her side. She collapsed; Kijima reached her. He pushed her gently toward Hikaru and grunted as he grabbed the man under the arms, stumbling backward toward the exit. “Go!” he shouted. 

Powdered snow and ice laced Hikaru’s skin as he stumbled out of the crevasse. He squeezed Kyoko’s hand, then turned and ran back to help Kijima. The man they held coughed, then gasped, a shuddering wheeze. He fell silent, his head hanging low, his lips blue. 

“Ren?” Hikaru said, the name a breath. The man was of a height, and so similar, but with the color leeched out of his hair and skin. 

Kijima nodded grimly. “Spell,” he said, lacking the breath for more words. They reached the cart. Hikaru groaned as they leveraged Ren up into the back of it. He lay limp and motionless, not even his chest rising and falling. 

Kyoko scrambled up into the cart, her fingers tracing the lines of his face, hovering over the place his medallion had always rested. A deep hole with seared edges tore his clothing and his skin just beside his heart. Kyoko covered it with one palm, then pulled back. “Corn,” she said. “Oh, oh--” 

Hikaru pulled himself up and knelt beside her. She pushed him away. “I’m sorry.” She looked at him, her eyes full of tears. “I can’t.”

“We need to get him to a healer,” Kijima shouted, already climbing into the driver’s seat. 

Kanae reached toward him. “We will stay. Lighten the load. I’ll meet you on the path south when you return.” Kijima nodded, his face grim. 

“Can’t?” Hikaru whispered. 

Kyoko simply nodded, her focus back on Ren. “I didn’t know he was alive,” she said. “Or I never would have…”

Hikaru felt pain twist deep inside him. Second place again, and to a dying man. “I understand,” he said, a lie fit for the stage.

“We must go!” Kijima shouted. 

“Wait.” Kyoko’s thumb brushed the blue-tinted skin of Ren’s cheek, trembling as she pushed a strand of golden hair from his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Kyoko should kiss Kuon, turn to [Chapter 85](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70685835). If Kyoko should not, letting Kijima race for the healer’s, turn to [Chapter 86](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70685907). 


	85. Chapter 85

“Kyoko,” Hikaru said, his voice as urgent as Kijima’s slap of reins against the mule’s neck. “We have to get Ren to the healer.” 

But Kyoko’s eyes never wavered from the face of the man lying in front of her. “His name was Corn,” she said. “Not Ren.” Her fingers trembled, hesitating at the corner of Kuon’s eye. Her fingers curled in on themselves, pulling back for the briefest moment before unfurling like butterfly wings and laid to either side of his face. “I knew I knew you,” she whispered. A tear tracked down the side of her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Kijima jerked his chin at Hikaru, his face twisted with pain and impatience. Hikaru stepped in the back of the wagon. “Kyoko--” he said, reaching for her shoulder. 

“Don’t touch me!” Her voice cut like a whip. She bent over Kuon, trying to gather him into her arms. Her hands tangled in his cloak, clinging to him as she began to sob. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she repeated, over and over, rocking his body against hers. 

Hikaru turned away, his hand covering his mouth. He knelt in the corner of the wagon and slowly pulled his lute onto his lap, rubbing his fingers over the latch as if it were a prayer charm. The wagon swayed as Kijima stood, throwing the reins down over the mule’s back. He glared at Kyoko, then leapt off the wagon and stormed toward the woods, never once looking at the body of his friend. 

The canyon grew quiet, the only sound the shattered whisper of Kyoko’s refrain. Then even that stilled. She wiped at her own tears, his skin cool beneath them. “I would have loved you as you were,” she said. “I would have loved you as you are.” 

Kyoko bent low. Her hair slipped forward, a veil separating them from the world as she gently pressed her lips against Kuon’s. Her first kiss. His last kiss. 

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips. 

The words fell into the air caught between them, held by the weight of childhood dreams locked tight inside both of them. Dreams have a way of shaping lives, pushing and pulling until there is no way to tell where the dreamer ends and the dream begins. 

Kyoko’s dream had found its dreamer. It raced, quicksilver hope slipping from her heart’s words to his heart. The heart was too small, and too still, and the dream beat against it, pushing and pulling faster and faster until Kuon’s heart woke, and he breathed, and his first breath was her love. 

“Kyoko,” he whispered. 

She shuddered as his arms wrapped around her, but as he kissed her back she was not afraid. She shook with wonder, not fear. He pulled her close; she traced the wound on his chest, now sealed. 

There was shouting, running, the sound of disbelief and joy surrounding them as one by one their friends turned, saw, and believed. But in each other’s arms, Kyoko and Kuon heard nothing but the beating of one another’s hearts. 

After all, their story had only just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End. 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	86. Chapter 86

“Kyoko,” Hikaru said, and that was all. But it was enough. The urgency in his voice pulled her attention from Ren’s face. He pulled her toward him, holding her tight. “Go!” he shouted to Kijima. Kijima whipped the mule’s back; the cart lurched forward, leaving the others behind. 

The journey took too long, a night and a day and into another night, all haunted to quietness by the corpse-like figure laying in the cart beside them. Kyoko looked at nothing else, her eyes watching hawk-like for any piece of hair jarred into disarray by the cart’s wild rocking on the mountain trails. Kijima led them higher, deeper into the range. 

On a cliff ringed with sparsely-leaved evergreens, in a small wooden hut, they found the healer. He was slight, and fair, a man with carefully trimmed white hair and features as delicate as a woman’s. He bowed to them, remaining bowed as they dragged Ren’s body off the cart. Their walk was slow, their friend heavy. He did not breathe. Kyoko sat in the back of the cart, staring off the edge of the cliff. 

The healer followed them into a hut decorated in rich red and yellow cloth, draping over the wood walls and turning a simple lodge into a haven. He gestured at a wooden table. Kijima and Hikaru laid Ren on top, standing like guards at his head and his feet. The healer spread long-fingered hands over Ren’s body, humming to himself as he paused over Ren’s heart. He sighed, his hand covering the wound the same way Kyoko’s had. 

“Work faster, man,” Kijima said sharply. His hands were clenched in fists, still clutching reins. 

The healer’s smile was soft as he looked up at Kijima. “I am not my father,” he said, “and so must not rush.” Kijima scoffed. The healer looked back down at Ren, his hand curling into itself over the wound. “Though I fear there is nothing to rush here.” 

Hikaru bit down on his finger, stifling his grief. He would not cry. Not yet, when he had yet to tell Kyoko. He nodded at the healer and left, the simple door slamming over the sound of Kijima’s shouted disagreement. 

Kyoko did not look at him. She looked up, away from his face, toward the stars. He could not speak, so he stood at her side. “I used to dream that I would be a princess,” she said. “And dance all night with my true love.”

“I would sing for you,” Hikaru said. He would not reach for her, though, his hands still at his sides.

The corners of her lips turned up but the smile did not reach her eyes. She looked at the moon, she looked at the stars, she looked at everything in the heavens but she would not look down at him. 

“But who will I dance with?” she asked. Her voice broke over a sob. Hikaru climbed into the wagon and held her against him, her tears soaking his jacket. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we have come to an end. Thank you for dancing with me.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	87. Chapter 87

Ren said nothing as he stepped away from Kijima. He wrapped his hand around the medallion and pulled if off over his head. Kijima’s breath let out in a slow hiss as the spell broke, freeing the light from its enslavement to the enchantment bending an illusion around Ren. 

Ren turned then, letting Kijima see him as he was. He unsheathed his sword, holding it loose by his side. “We are both not what we seem,” he said. “I will walk the path with you, whichever you choose.”

Kijima stared at him. Ren could almost pretend to see himself in Kijima’s eyes, hair blonde and eyes green, a shocking face that made people stare. A face that could never hide from what it had done, or what it would do. Then Kijima was kneeling, looking up at him, his hands spread wide. Tears filled his eyes. “Please,” he said. “End it.” 

Kuon raised his sword. “Ask me,” he said. 

“Kill me,” Kijima said. “Please.”

The sword fell, severing the vampire’s head from his body. A single scream echoed through the night, but it was one only Kuon could hear, the scream coming not from a mouth but from the pattern of red seeping out of a man’s body laying on the ground in front of him. Again, again, again --  _ MURDERER!  _

Kuon draped the medallion back over his shoulders. A shiver ran through his body as the spell took hold. He knelt, wiping his sword on Kijima’s cloak. 

“I am sorry, brother,” he said. Then he turned and walked out into the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	88. Chapter 88

Ren tipped his head sideways. The cold air replaced Kijima’s breath on his exposed neck. He waited. Kijima’s grip tensed, then relaxed. 

Ren turned, stepping backward once. He was far enough away to see his friend clearly, close enough to be bitten. “I’m not afraid,” he said. “Not of a scribe with dental issues.” 

Kijima laughed then, something closer to the bold bawdiness of the day before. His hands wrapped over his face mid-laugh, and when they dropped the fangs were gone. The blood remained, dark patches on his otherwise smooth chin. “You should be,” Kijima said, repeating his words from earlier but with less doubt. “I am.” 

Ren looked at the inn over Kijima’s shoulder, trying to place Hikaru’s shadow among the shifting shapes. He would be safe in there, with custom and an innkeep willing to trade provision for work. Safer there than out here. Ren shrugged his cloak closed and started to walk down the path away from the inn, back to the dark road. 

“Where are you going?” Kijima called.

“We,” Ren said. “Where are we going.”

Kijima was at his side in two quick strides, his head shaking furiously. “No, Tsuruga. Go back with Hikaru.”

“Hikaru is fine.” Guilt pushed at Ren’s confidence, trying to curl it in on itself. “He will be fine.” 

“You have a contract with him,” Kijima said, his voice snagging on the final word. “He owes you money.”

“You think I give a shit about money? You think I’m going to trade twenty coins for you? Let you wander around out here eating God-knows-what until someday you find someone willing to kill you?” Ren grabbed Kijima’s shirt, bloodstains twisting inside his fist. His lips worked, trying to force more words out, but the sight of his friend’s face exactly as it had been, except covered in blood, left him silent. He dropped his grip and walked on. 

“What about Tina?” Kijima said from behind him, not moving to follow.

Ren froze. “What do you know about Tina?” 

“You talk in your sleep,” Kijima said. “ _ I promise, Tina. Please, Tina. I’ll take care of you, Tina _ .” He paused, the new red of his irises dyed a dark brown by the moon’s light. “What about Tina?” 

Ren grimaced, then hid the pain behind a mask. “You’ll help me. She already won’t see me as I was, so what’s adding a vampire?” 

“Help you?”

“Raise money. I have to… take care of her. I owe her.” Ren’s eyes darted to Kijima and then back to the night. “You aren’t the only one who’s murdered.”

Ren walked alone, and then Kijima was by his side, matching his pace step for step. The clouds were clearing, stars pricking through the black night sky. An owl called out their progress, its slow song following their steps. “I can’t control it,” Kijima said. “The bloodlust. You’ll be in danger when it wakes.” 

Ren nodded. He knew the risks. What he didn’t know was if there were ways to mitigate them. The moon’s light broke through, the snow on the path shimmering in its glow. The crossroads was ahead. Kijima’s steps slowed; he fell a pace or two behind Ren. Ren’s eyes strained, searching the corners of the crossroads for the body. He’d have to check the wound, altering it if need be, then bury the man away from the road before they could move on. He saw no corpse, no bundle of rags and flesh. 

A man stepped out from the treeline. Ren stopped, drawing his sword immediately. “Behind me,” he hissed at Kijima.

“Like hell,” Kijima said. “I’m the one that can get fucking shishkabobed and survive. You get behind me.” He leaped then, slamming to earth in the center of the crossroads. The trees all around him shivered at the impact, shedding their snow in one beautiful, circle-shaped snowfall. “Show yourself,” Kijima said with a growl.

The stranger stepped into the moon’s light. He was pale, and tall, taller than either of the friends. His hair was cropped short, like a monk’s without the tonsure. He was smiling calmly, large hands open, palm-up. “I mean no harm to you or your Companion,” he said, putting an emphasis on the last word that made it sound like a title instead. 

Kijima stood, hands braced like claws. “Then be on your way, before we decide we mean harm to you.” 

The other walked closer instead, his head cocked as he examined Kijima. “How long?” 

Ren rushed toward the pair, his sword raised, threatening the man’s neck. “Back away, sir.”

The man pushed Ren’s sword down, his eyes never leaving Kijima’s. “Two days, maximum. And yet so well-adjusted. Who turned you?”

Kijima started, blinking in shock. Ren spoke for him. “What do you know?” 

“Everything,” the man said. He held his hand out to Kijima, his eyes still weighing, still evaluating. “My name is Daros. Come with me, and I will teach you how to live after you have died.”

Kijima looked to Ren. Ren didn’t move, his sword still tightly gripped. This was not his decision to make, and he would give nothing to it. Kijima looked back at the man called Daros, then reached forward and clasped his hand. “Kijima Hidehito. My companion, Ren Tsuruga.” 

Daros’s smile was larger this time. In the moonlight Ren saw the slightest hint of red behind his dark irises. He sheathed his sword. Daros turned, waving for Kijima to follow him. Kijima did, stopping after a few steps to look back at Ren. “Ren,” he said, and that was all. 

Ren reached up to where the medallion hung around his neck and pulled. The chain snapped. The air around him shimmered, the spell breaking, releasing its hold on Ren’s body. He let the necklace fall and walked after his friend, his features shifting with each step away from the magic and into the night. Blonde, now. Green eyes seeing clearly, without the haze of magic’s weight around the edges of his vision. 

“Where are we going?” Kuon said, walking next to Kijima. 

Daros did not turn, striding ahead of them into the woods. “Home,” he said. 

Kuon grinned, elbowing Kijima. “Home,” he whispered. 

“Is your dick hair blonde too?” Kijima whispered back. 

Kuon punched him. 

Behind them, the medallion faded to dark metal, the magic seeping into the ground, chasing the earth’s currents back to its creator. Night deepened, then fell before dawn’s caress. A delicate hand in a white leather glove reached down, scooping the necklace up out of the snow. A woman, brushing snow off the jewelry, scanning the forest for signs of its owner. 

“Kanae,” she said, waving at her best friend. “Do you remember a patron at the inn wearing this?” 

Kanae shook her head, standing with perfect posture even in the treacherous slopes of snow. A third joined them, a cluster of girls in pink breaking the white monotony of the storm. “Me neither,” she said. “Did you just find that?”

The first woman nodded, her golden eyes pensive. She traced the runes around the medallion’s edge, then reached around her own neck and clasped it closed. It hung low on her, nearly brushing the slender waist of her dress. 

Hikaru leaned around the mule’s head from the raised seat he sat on to drive. “Are you keeping it, Kyoko?” he said.

Kyoko nodded, the medallion clasped in her hand. “The inset stone is iolite. It’s… a favorite memory.” She smiled up at Hikaru and walked forward, walking ahead of their cart through the snow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An End. 
> 
> PS--Daros is an original character created by AkisMusicBox, and one of my favorite vampires. I couldn’t resist inserting him--official fanfic writer for her novel now! 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	89. Chapter 89

“Fine,” Ren said, twisting away from Kijima. The vampire’s shoulders slumped with relief. It was difficult to see. Ren shoved him backward, hating how easy it was to move him now. He pushed again--Kijima tripped on the bottom step, catching himself easily with his preternatural speed. 

His eyes narrowed. “Not inside,” he said. “There are people.”

“Exactly.” Ren shoved him again. He was harder to move now, gripping the support beam of the porch’s roof. “You didn’t specify the weapon. I choose alcohol poisoning.” 

“Ren. Please.”

Ren shook his head. “My choice. Not wasting a good sword on you. Get the hell inside that bar and bottoms up, bastard.” One night of drink, one night to let go. He’d cry it out and be better in the morning. Or not, but the sun would rise and they’d deal with that day’s issues then. Ren was used to running from problems. 

Kijima gave in with a cut-off curse and turned to head inside. He shrank back from the light and noise the poured out at him when he tugged the door open, but Ren’s hand was steady on his back and he walked inside. “It’s loud,” Kijima said, his voice pitched almost too low for Ren to hear. 

“Get drinking fast then,” Ren replied. He pulled a hunting knife out of his pocket and sliced off the purse hanging from Kijima’s belt. “You’re paying.” He waved away Kijima’s burst of protest. “I already washed dishes to feed that one,” he said, waving at Hikaru sitting and staring at the fire. “I’m not doing it again.”

“We wouldn’t let you,” the innkeeper said, her hands on her hips. “My husband told me how useless you were, young man.” 

Ren grimaced, but her stern look turned into a smile and a congenial wink. Ren held out Kijima’s purse. She waved it away. “I talked to the bard. He’ll sing, once he’s up for it. But that’s for another night. You lot have quite the story. Drinks are on the house tonight.” 

Kijima’s whoop was half-hearted. Ren bowed, thanking the innkeep. He felt suspicion niggling in the back of his mind. No one gave anything for free. He pushed it down and threw the purse back at Kijima, ignoring his mutterings about ruining a perfectly good set of ties. 

The waitress--Ren couldn’t remember her name, but she seemed to have no trouble pressing against his arm and remembering his, saying it in a sickeningly sweet tone as she set down their drinks--brought a round of clear liquor. “What’s this?” Ren said.

“Vodka,” she said. She tittered at the question in his eyes. “Made from potatoes, the cook says. Can you believe it? Potatoes into alcohol. Next they’ll be turning wheat into liquor!”

“That’s beer,” Kijima said. 

She tittered again, an annoying mouse. Ren took a shot, pleased with the immediate warmth even if it tasted a bit too much like medicine. He waved his hand over the table. “Fill it,” he said.

She blinked at him. Her eyelashes were too short. “Sir?” 

“The table. With your potato drink.” 

She stood still for a moment, then curtsied and scurried away to the kitchen. Hikaru stood without a word, slinging his lute over his shoulder. 

“Sit,” Ren said. The bard ignored him, beginning to walk away. Ren grabbed his sleeve and held, not pulling, not forcing, just… waiting. Hikaru tugged once. His fingers balled into a fist. Then his head fell forward and his fingers fell loose. 

“I have nothing to celebrate,” he said quietly. 

Ren let go of his sleeve. “We are alive,” he said. “And together.” 

Hikaru pressed his eyes shut. “More than can be said for some.”

Kijima raised his glass to that. Hikaru sat, scrubbing at red eyes. He grabbed one of the miniature glasses and held it up, looking at Kijima’s warped reflection through the side. “More than can be said for some,” he echoed, then threw the liquor back. A single cough, a second shot. 

Ren raised his glass, waiting for his two friends to press the rims of theirs to his. “To brothers,” he said. Hikaru closed his eyes, then forced them open and looked first at Kijima and then Ren. Kijima licked the straight edges of his top teeth. Ren sat silently, the warmth of the first shot warring with the medallion’s chill. 

“To brothers,” Hikaru said, his voice rough.

Kijima gulped down the shot and grabbed another. “To brothers!” he said with a roar. 

Somewhere, five or so rounds of potatoes turned into magic, Kijima’s fist began to bang on the table. Hikaru was swaying, laughing and crying at the same time. Ren drummed under and around Kijima’s beat with his fingertips. It was rough, like the pounding of a migraine or the drums of war. Then Hikaru began to sing. His voice was a simple one, pure and sweet, a clarity to it that made the lyrics of his songs seem more real than the life he sang into. Ren’s drumming slowed as the song grew. He sipped at the vodka now, no longer noticing when the waitress refilled their table. 

Kijima watched them both. Ren’s hulking form bent nearly in half, drawn low to rest his head on his hand. His lips on the vodka glass, his eyes warm as he studied the bard’s face. Hikaru singing, his words starting to slur. He broke a chord--bent forward, threw back a shot--and began to sing again, his head now on the sidearm of the chair. Ren was laughing, his hair falling in his face, his finger poking at Hikaru’s forehead, gently pushing the bard’s head off the sidearm. 

Hikaru laughed, hanging over the side of the chair, the firelight hot and red on his pale features. Kijima sipped from a bottle now, if drowning himself in each gulp could be called a sip. He felt nothing, nothing at all. He watched his friends fumble for another glass, their fingers tangling in nothing but air. He twirled the bottle in his fingers, running his thumb over the ridges of blown glass. 

The fire was the most beautiful thing in the room. Warm tongues licking at the brick walls, promising heat. Promising sensation. Kijima wondered what he’d feel if he touched it. Some legends said vampires turned to ash at flame’s kiss. Others, that they were as impervious as marble. He reached his hand toward it. Its heat barely sank through the chill of his skin. It seemed impossible to believe he would incinerate at its touch. 

Ren’s laughter tore Kijima’s gaze from the fire. Purple blurs swam across Kijima’s eyes as he struggled to focus through them on Ren. Hiccuping, his hands on Hikaru’s knees, Ren was almost shouting. “Wake up,” Ren said. 

“Too loud,” Kijima said. 

“He’s asleep,” Ren said, a laugh bursting from him. Kijima didn’t see what was funny. Hikaru hung over the side of the chair still, his hair draping down toward the floor and his face slack in sleep, slowly turning pink from the inversion. 

Kijima poured the leftover shot glasses into his bottle and handed it to Ren. He stepped around the table and picked up Hikaru, carrying him draped across his arms. The second time he’d hauled the bard around today. He better not be getting used to it. 

“Bedtime,” Kijima said. Ren pushed himself out of the chair with one slow, liquid movement. He held the bottle to his lips already. Kijima looked away. 

The staircase was narrow and dark, the light at the top extinguished by some earlier guest’s passing. Kijima could still see clearly, maybe even better than in the full light downstairs. The stairs were worn in the middle, scrapes from boots and heels carving divots in their tops. A single portrait of a fat man with a ruffed collar hung halfway up the stairs, crooked just off level. Ren’s hand clung to the edge of Kijima’s cloak. Inch by inch he walked his fingers up the cloak. By the top of the staircase Ren’s hand had made it to Kijima’s side and the man was giggling, working at the button on Kijima’s pocket. Kijima swung Hikaru slightly, whacking Ren in the side with the bard’s boots and making him stumble against the wall. 

“Ouch,” Ren said, overdramatically. The door at the end of the hall opened. A woman looked out. To a normal person she’d be hidden by darkness. Kijima could see her clearly, hair and eyes the same golden color. 

“Kyoko Mogami,” Kijima said. “Long time no see.” 

The door snapped shut, then opened again more slowly. Kyoko stepped out, her fingers pressed to the wall to guide her steps in the darkness. “Who’s there?” she said, her voice strong. 

“A girl,” Ren said. He leaned back against the wall, long arms spreading wide enough to bridge the full gap between doors. “Don’t trust myself. Don’t see me.” 

“He’s drunk,” Kijima said. “Very.” 

“Very,” Ren echoed. “Swaying. Whole… building.” 

“I have your fiance,” Kijima said, projecting his voice down the hall to reach Kyoko. She stilled except for one finger tapping on the wall. 

“Hikaru’s here?” she said. He would have expected a different response from a blushing bride-to-be, but to each their own. 

“Among others. Kijima,” Kijima said.

“Kuon,” Ren said. 

Kijima glanced at him. 

“I mean Ren. I wanted--a--I wanted a--K name too.” 

Kyoko’s reply was breathless and rushed. “What name did he say?” 

Kijima hefted Hikaru. “Ren. He’s our bodyguard. Your man is in my room. He’ll be… inconvenienced until the morning.” 

Kyoko nodded, or something like it, and disappeared back inside her room. Kijima kicked open their door and shoved inside, banging Hikaru’s head on the doorjamb as he walked through. The bard just smiled and muttered. Ren stood in the hallway still, looking like he was holding up the wall. Or vice versa. 

“Who… girl,” Ren said. 

Kijima threw Hikaru on the bed, turning him on his side so he wouldn’t drown if he puked. “Hikaru’s bride.”

“I like her voice,” Ren said. He slumped to the ground, his legs spread uncomfortably wide. Kijima grabbed him by a boot and dragged him inside the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, turn to [Chapter 90](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70686267). 
> 
> (PS I love Renjima)


	90. Chapter 90

The afternoon sun was hot and bright through the glass window when Ren finally woke. He groaned, flopping his arm over his head. 

“Good afternoon, idiot,” Kijima said from somewhere in the damnable pounding light. 

“Thought you’re supposed to burn up in the sun,” Ren said with a groan. 

“Thought I was supposed to die last night.” 

Ren waved his hand in the air. Win some, lose some. He pushed himself up. He was still fully clothed, which was at least one thing off the to do list for the day. Win some, lose some. He stretched and immediately regretted it, the movement setting off a pounding deep inside his head. “Bard,” he said. 

“Gone.” 

Ren forced one eye open. 

“Wasn’t me, bastard. Thank you for believing in me. I found his mistress last night and reunited them over ham and bread this morning. They hijacked a wagon and are heading to her mom’s to get permission to get hitched or a dowry or whatever you ask a mother for.” 

Ren pressed his fingers to his bloody vengeful head. 

“Your money’s on the side table,” Kijima said, standing. “I was just staying to make sure no one robbed you while you were passed out.”

He was leaving. Ren forced himself to stand. “What about the toast,” he found himself saying, and wishing he had another cup of vodka to drink. 

Kijima turned, though. Ren tried again. 

“Brother,” he said. His throat felt dry. 

“I thought you were talking about the dead ones,” Kijima said. 

“I was,” Ren said. He stared at Kijima, letting his eyes skip from his reddened eyes to his pale skin to the cuts in his lower lip made by his own sharp teeth. “And the undead ones.”

Kijima’s smile was slow, but it was there. It was there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we have come to an end. And Ren has a friend, or perhaps something better. I’m calling it a win. Love this one. Go hie thee hither and find him a Kyoko end too! 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	91. Chapter 91

Ren sighed as he picked Hikaru up from the chair. His hold on his was awkward, balancing man and lute and a bottle he took from the table. It would do better than leaving him by the fire to be robbed--or skewered like a potato the next time the psychotic chef lost his temper over someone trying to help. Hikaru muttered under his breath, his head lolling in the crook of Ren’s arm. 

“Wass… warm,” the bard said. “‘S cold now.” He patted his own shoulder, his hands looking for his cloak. Ren shrugged him higher against his chest, trying to angle his shoulders so his cloak would fall over the bard’s legs at least. But the staircase was too narrow, making it difficult to do much more than avoid bumping Hikaru’s hanging head on the wall. 

“We’ll be in the room soon,” Ren said. The hallway was empty. A light glowed from under the door at the end of the hall, and under the one Kimiko had said was theirs. Ren watched it, looking for a shadow moving in the light, and saw none. She must have lit a fire while he tried to help Taisho. Ren sat Hikaru down, encouraging the bard to lean against him. Hikaru leaned against the wall instead, slowly slumping down like a man without bones. 

Ren opened the door, bracing himself to put off Kimiko’s advances again. There was indeed a woman in the room, but it was not the waitress. It was another, fairer, more delicate--and also more dangerous. She stood over a clearly unconscious man on the bed, rifling through his pockets. Her eyes jerked to meet his when the door opened. Her hands flew to her own side. 

A smile spread slowly across her face, pushing away the brief flicker of shock and shame. “Just tending to the gentleman,” she said. Her hand darted in and out of her own pocket, then reached out for Ren, empty of stolen items. 

Ren stepped closer, towering over her. The firelight had obscured her coloring, but this close he could see her hair was golden, not red, and her eyes a matching amber. Her smile was fierce and demanding, daring him to call her out. 

“Thief,” Ren said. 

Hikaru’s fiance curtsied, her eyes leaving his for a split second at the bottom end of the dip. When they snapped back, the defiance was gone. “Nay, sir. Just following through on an agreement I had with the gentleman,” she said, her voice calm, almost gentle. “A maiden can take no chances.”

Ren’s hands knotted into fists as she slid past him into the hallway. He listened to her footsteps pause at the doorway, then scamper down the hall to the room at its end. Ren walked back out of the room and closed the door, dragging Hikaru to the next one. Empty. 

He draped Hikaru over the bed and sat next to him. Hikaru reached out and grabbed Ren’s sleeve, dragging himself upright. “Kyoko,” he said, his consonants slurring.

Ren sighed. “You saw her.” 

“Maiden fair.”

“Maiden foul.” Ren turned to look down at Hikaru. “She’s a thief.” 

Hikaru sighed lustily. “You’re a mercenary.” 

“I work under legal contracts.” 

Hikaru’s fingers waved in the air, conducting an imaginary concert for himself. He finally spoke again, long after Ren had fallen back into thought. “For the people who hire you,” he said, “it’s legal. For the ones they pay you to hurt?” His face clouded with memory. He shook his head, as if chasing away the scene.

Ren stifled his grimace. “Thought you were drunk.” 

“Mmmmm,” Hikaru said. “Excellent idea.” He rolled off the bed, slumping against its side for a moment before crawling toward the door.

Ren reached out and grabbed the bard’s loose shirttail, holding him back. Hikaru kept trying to move forward, his hands and knees slipping on the wood floor worn smooth by time and travel. “I have a bottle for us,” Ren said. 

Hikaru turned inside Ren’s grip, still crawling, but now toward the bed. He stopped between Ren’s legs, pushed himself to sitting, and leaned his head back, his mouth open. He grunted and pointed at it. 

Ren chuckled, opened the bottle, and poured in a healthy dose. The bard gagged, losing half of the liquor out of the side of his mouth. Ren sat still, watching his friend. He should take him down the hall, let his wife-to-be take care of him. Or rob him and run away. 

Hikaru’s head slumped onto Ren’s knee. His hand patted the bed, searching. Ren put the bottle in its grasp. The bard sighed and took a swig. 

“How well do you know her?” Ren asked.

Hikaru waved the bottle at him. “She's beautiful.” 

Ren grunted. 

“I don’t know her,” Hikaru said. “Not really. Not like I know you.” 

Ren sat back. “You don’t know me.” 

“I do!” Hikaru fell over and stayed there, sprawled on the floor. “Big and grumpy and too prideful to let on that you like me.” 

“I—“ 

Hikaru chopped at the air with the bottle. “I am beautiful--of course you like me.” 

Ren laughed. The bard was so free in his drunkenness. He sat down on the floor next to Hikaru and stole the bottle, draining it until he felt the warmth spreading and the world spinning. 

“Why are you marrying her?” Ren asked, poking at the dust motes that looked like golden eyes floating in the firelight. 

Hikaru’s third sigh was different from the others. Dreamy, more hum than exhale. “She is a fairy tale princess, and I am a troubadour.” He grabbed the bottle from Ren, frowning at the small amount left. “Also, she asked me to.” 

Ren should have been surprised, but the liquor made him feel like he’d known this all along. He just nodded, and then kept nodding as Hikaru continued. 

“She wanted out,” Hikaru said. He took a drink. “Away, someone to legally put her name under that wasn’t her mother.” 

“So marriage,” Ren said. 

Hikaru shrugged. “She is beautiful.” 

Ren pushed off the ground, his stomach curdling with the implications. “Marriage,” he shook his head, trying to clear it, “isn’t a song, Hikaru. It’s…” 

“A contract.” Hikaru started to laugh. It sounded wild, ragged on the edges. “And you are--you are an expert at those.” 

Ren’s laughter joined Hikaru’s. He kicked gently at his friend’s side. “Then, from an expert, don’t do it.” 

Hikaru’s head rolled freely, side to side, either keeping track of a tune’s rhythm in his own head or disagreeing with Ren. He sat up, his face going green for a moment with the movement. He looked around their room, blinking, smiling, trying to find something to focus on. He chose Ren’s face. “Mmmm,” he hummed. “Alright.” 

“Alright?”

Hikaru brought his knees up to his chest, resting his cheek on them. “I won’t marry her.” His eyes drooped closed. “Yet,” he said sleepily. “Ever.” His head slipped off his knees. His eyes opened with a jolt -- “Yet,” he said again. 

Ren wrapped his arms around Hikaru’s shoulders and tried to drag him up onto the bed before he passed out. The room swam when his head dipped and he fell forward instead, barely missing squashing the bard beneath him. They lay on the floor, Ren above and Hikaru below, drunkenly laughing. Ren rolled to the side, filling far more of the floor than Hikaru did. He tried to mimic Hikaru’s hum and missed the tune, falling silent instead. 

“Stay with me,” Hikaru said, looking at the ceiling and not at Ren. “I--I can pay. I’ll sing, and earn the money to hire you as a bodyguard.” 

Ren put his arm over his eyes, blocking out the fire’s light.

“I don’t want to lose this,” Hikaru said. 

Ren nodded; closed his eyes. “You’ll have to sign a contract,” he said. Hikaru laughed. His arms flung wide, one resting on the floor just beside Ren’s. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, we have come to an end. Perhaps you can continue the merry misadventures of bard and brawler? Or pursue them down a separate track, finding another winding way for them to walk. The End.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	92. Chapter 92

The woman remained still in his hold, unwavering despite the blade pressed into her skin. “Give me all the coin in your satchel or I’ll scream rape,” she whispered. She reached back to his hip, a movement Ren easily dodged.

Ren chuckled and pressed his dagger deeper into the woman’s throat until the skin almost broke. “I do not think you are in any position to proposition me.”

“You would be wrong.”

It happened in two seconds. In the first, the woman opened her mouth with an accusation at the tip of her tongue. In the second, Ren pushed his dagger into the stranger’s throat and cut off her scream. Her body fell to the ground with a heavy thump.

He looked down at his attacker and scanned her body covered in garish pink silks until his eyes trailed up to her face. Blood oozed out from her neck as recognition finally settled over Ren. He recognized her face, with her small mouth and golden eyes both open in now-permanent shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.


	93. Chapter 93

“I apologize, sir,” the woman said in a tense voice. She swallowed hard and stiffened, trying not to give the impression of fear. That was never the right reaction to have. “I must have mistaken you for someone else.”

Ren smiled. Everybody said that at one point or another when there was a knife to their throat. “Of course.”

“It won’t happen again,” she lied.

Next time she would be more careful.

He tightened his hold on her wrists. If he knew anything about girls like these...they never travelled alone. “How many friends do you have?”

She laughed lightly and wriggled in his grasp. “What kind of question is that?”

“How many?” He repeated, pressing the tip of his blade to her throat. “Cause if I have to kill you, I won’t rest until your friends meet the same fate.” 

She intended her protest to come forcibly. Instead, the word came out fragmented, caught between her ribs. “D--Don’t.” 

“How many?”

The woman exhaled, heaviness settling over her shoulders. “There’s two more of us. We won’t bother you again.”

“I know.” She tried to hide it, but he could feel her shaking in his hold. A scared woman wasn’t going to go against him. Not if she knew what was good for her--or her friends. Ren released her and she spun on her toes, her face twisted in fury. 

“What kind of man are you? Handling a woman like a mercenary?!” 

“That would be a mercenary.” He responded on instinct, his eyes going to her hands in case she had a weapon hidden in the garish silks she wore. But his eyes got stuck there, on her silks. Bright pink. Bright pink and... skimpy. Ren found his eyes skimming up her pale skin until he found himself staring into her eyes. 

He knew those eyes. 

“ _ You _ ,” he breathed. 

A flood of memories rushed through his brain and he stomped them down and forced to focus on the problem in front of her. It didn’t matter that Kyoko, his first love, was standing right in front of him in revealing silks. It mattered that Kyoko, Hikaru’s betrothed, was standing right in front of him in revealing silks. What was she doing here? Wasn’t she supposed to be at Katagiri’s?

Kyoko’s gaze settled into a suspicious glare. It was not everyday that some strange man, who had been holding her at knifepoint only a moment prior, said something so mysterious. “Do I know you?” 

_ Yes _ ! His head screamed. But that wasn’t the point. He’d made a mistake. Hikaru wouldn’t just pout and whine if he knew what he had just done to Kyoko. No, he was quite sure that the bard would find it inside himself to hurt him. Hikaru may be against murder--but he’d also hired a mercenary to protect himself. So, he shook his head. “No.”

She stared at him with narrowed eyes and opened her mouth, but he cut her off before words could come out. “Good luck with your upcoming nuptials. I wish you the best.” 

“Ex--Excuse me?”

He brushed past her, refusing to take another look like he wanted. “Goodnight, Miss Kyoko.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader, continue to [Chapter 94](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013403/chapters/70686711).


	94. Chapter 94

“Ren! You’ll never guess who I found!” Hikaru ran up to Ren like an excitable puppy the moment he appeared in the dining room the next morning. He pulled a familiar woman behind him, dressed far more conservatively than the night before. If Ren didn’t know any better, he wouldn’t have known she was the same woman. “It’s like fate!”

Ren kept his eyes glued to Hikaru, refusing to let his beating heart convince him to look at Kyoko. “I thought you weren’t talking to me.”

The bard froze, though he realized quickly that he should have expected this reaction. Ren was practical, if anything. “I, uh, I wanted to apologize for last night. I was scared and... mourning.” Tears sprung to the corners of his eyes. “You did exactly what I hired you to do. I shouldn’t have yelled--no matter what happened.” 

_ Ah _ . Ren didn’t know how to react. Sure, he could accept the apology right away. But he wanted to make him sweat. He did, after all, throw a fit for nothing.

“You know each other?” Kyoko’s voice filled the awkward silence, taking the breath from Ren’s chest. 

Hikaru frowned. “You know Ren?” 

Kyoko’s eyes flickered with something Ren couldn’t place and for a moment, he thought he was out of luck. She was going to sell him out. Or worse, she remembered the truth. “I don’t,” Kyoko said slowly, looking Ren up and down. Like a stranger. “Who is he?”

Hikaru hesitated, not liking the look in his betrothed’s eyes. “This is Ren Tsuruga. He’s... He’s a friend.” His eyes flickered to Ren, who nodded at the title. Relief flooded his body. “He protected me through the woods.” 

Kyoko nodded slowly. “I see.” 

“We’re going to make use of this good fortune and head over to the venue as soon as possible.” Hikaru held out a sack of coins to Ren, like there was nothing wrong with this situation. “And this is for you.”

Ren just looked at this bag. “What’s this?”

“Your payment.” 

He stitched his brows together. “I didn’t finish the job. We still have one more stop.” As much as it pained him to think it, but their group just gained another member. And travelling with a woman was tricky.

“I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation; two lovesick people with a third wheel.” Hikaru grinned brightly, not noticing Kyoko wince beside him. “Besides! It’s only a town over!”

Ren knew what he was supposed to say. He was supposed to offer to fulfill his task and offer to take them the rest of the way to the venue. Except, the thought of traveling with both of them made his lungs ache. For way too many reasons than he had the words to describe. He was never supposed to reunite with Kyoko. And here he was. 

So, instead, he pushed down all his hesitation and put on a smile. “Safe travels.” 

“To you, too!” Hikaru chirped, all of last night’s tension melted at the appearance of his love. He turned on his heel with a wave, back to whatever the inn was serving for breakfast. 

Kyoko hovered for a moment longer, staring at Ren for a long moment. But she never said anything more and joined Hikaru before Ren could ask what she was looking at. 

Ren sighed and took his own seat, as far away from the happy couple as he could manage.

#

Weeks later, Ren was still thinking about the couple he’d left behind. He’d left as soon as he finished the meal, leaving the owners with a generous tip as he made way to the farthest town he could think of to pick up a new job. Somewhere where he wouldn’t have to think about the happy wedding. 

“Did you hear?” A woman beside him at one of the local pubs talked loudly to a friend of hers, her voice slurred from the lager served at the joint. “I just came from across the river and that’s all anybody can talk about over there.”

Her friend clucked her tongue, shaking her head. “So young, too.”

Ren’s ears burned at the mention of across the river. That was where he’d left them. And they were young. He couldn’t help turning to the gossiping women. “What are you talking about?” 

“The bard and his young fiancé!” She widened her eyes. “You really hadn’t heard?”

He shook his head. “I’ve just returned to the country,” he lied. “What happened?”

“The young sir and his bride were on the way to their wedding,” one said. “They didn’t pay for any protection,” the other chimed in. 

“His first mistake,” the first woman said gravely and pressed her hand into her chest. “A man like him should have known better. 

“I see,” he murmured, already knowing where this story was headed. His ears buzzed in anticipation of what came next.

“The second mistake was taking a lady with him into the woods.”

Ren stayed silent. 

The women spoke at once: “Vampires killed them less than a mile into their journey.”

The amulet at his neck pulsed with a familiar heat and he swallowed hard, feeling bile fight its way up his throat. “That’s awful,” he heard himself saying. “An absolute shame.” Except the words echoed through the hollow off his chest. 

All he could think was: _ I could have prevented this _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End. 
> 
> Thank you, ncisduckie!!
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://persephonejinmi.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
